


Pure Magic

by lostalongtthewayy



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Captain Swan - Freeform, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, and breastfeeding and all that so beware, cs angst, cs fluff, mentions of - Freeform, nyc au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-05-01 19:14:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 49,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14527302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostalongtthewayy/pseuds/lostalongtthewayy
Summary: They are friends of sorts, the two of them —not in the most conventional way but they are. Their relationship works just as it is, no attachments, no complications, no real feelings. It just works. She's always been alone, and he understands that. Look out for yourself, and never get hurt. It's their life. They understand each other in ways no one outside the two of them can and yet they are both too scared to ever admit it openly. Of course it’s only a matter of time before the universe catches up with them and everything becomes a mess.





	1. One

— ღ — 

They are neighbors. They have been for a little over two years now.

They share the second floor of a decent, yet modest apartment building in Queens.

She works during the day while he works in the evening —Emma’s 7-3 job at a PI firm in the city, a contrast to Killian’s evening tech job at a theater in midtown.

They are friends of sorts, the two of them —not the kind that text each other every day, or chat on the phone every night and share their every feeling with one another. Not at all.

They are more the kind that share pizza and cheap beer when life becomes too much.

Which is often enough, sadly.

They are fuck buddies of sorts at times too —the attraction between them too grand and too intense right there from the start.

It’s just sex though.

Neither he, nor Emma, are very good at feelings and openness. They’ve been burned before. They’ve been burned enough. 

It just doesn’t come easy to either of them so their relationship, just as it is, it _works_.

It works really _really well._

That is, of course, until it doesn’t.

It’s only a matter of time before the universe catches up with them and everything becomes a mess.

— ღ —

It takes Emma weeks to accept the truth. She ignores it. She ignores it as best as she can, and for a few days here and there, she almost convinces herself it truly isn’t happening.

It is during her bi-annual checkup that reality slaps her on the face.

Fourteen weeks.

She’s already fourteen weeks along when the doctor — _rather disapprovingly_ – confirms her suspicions. He judges her —completely baffled as to why it took her so long to get checked out.

It stings, but even so, she knows that a random doctor knows nothing about her or her life.

Nothing at all.

Despite being privy to her medical history, he has _no idea_ who she is or why she did as she did.

She’s a mess, but that’s nothing new.

Emma at least does know with all certainty that it’s Killian’s. There's no one else these days —not _really._

She doesn't date; she _works_ , she works a lot and makes a decent living for herself.

She's alone though.

Alone if not for her often irritating neighbor from across the hall —the very same one she could love if she weren’t so afraid to do so.

But then again…she guesses _alone_ is a relative term now —that if the small human growing inside her is anything to go for.

— ღ —   

She isn't showing, she doesn't _think_.

When she gets home that evening, (not really _home;_ more like her one bedroom apartment with the too small kitchen and even smaller bathroom) she inspects herself in front of the mirror.  

She does this for almost an hour. Just staring at herself. This angle and that. Her face, her breasts, her _middle…_

She doesn't think she sees anything resembling a bump; her stomach perhaps softer and squishier than usual, but not quite round.

She wonders when that will change.

She wonders when _he'll_ take notice.

She's going to tell him.

Not _now,_ of course.

She's still too shocked and in slight continued denial about the whole thing right now.

But eventually, Emma knows she will tell him.

He's a good man. A good man hiding behind skyscraper high walls just like hers.

She knows deep down he's good at heart though.  

If it weren't for her utter inability to trust, truly love, and open up, she knows the two of them would have become something more than occasional fuck buddies a long time ago.

He's attracted to her. He's never made of this attraction a secret. He's flirty and playful. Always knowing when to throw the extra compliment and racy innuendo when she's feeling particularly down or sulky.

He's good even if he spends his days trying to convince the world he isn't.

He'll probably make a good father, she thinks.

Underneath his seeming hard core, she knows he cares. He gives a fuck about her when nobody else in her life does or ever has.

She's too broken though. Too fucked up. Even if she wanted this –and truly, she doesn't. She doesn’t _think_ she does anyway —she knows bringing him into her life like this would only ruin him.

Emma Swan, as fucked up as she is, can't bear to do something like that to _him_.

— ღ —   

It's days later and she's still gathering the courage to tell him. He’s not stupid and has taken notice of the way she’s changed toward him.

So he confronts her.

Emma is tired; stupidly so. So she doesn't argue back when he sort of rants at her that she's been acting stupid and he misses her and _“What the hell, Swan, I thought we were bloody friends.”_

And he's right, she knows.

Despite everything and how much she tries to deny it, she knows she can count on him.

Not that she does but past all the teasing, the fake ( _and real_ ) flirting, the sex, she knows _friends_ is a word she would also use to describe their relationship.

Or maybe it is the word she would have used. In the past.

Before that little thing that is supposedly half him and half her, decided to take residence inside her, making her sore all over, hungry all the fucking time, and in need to use the restroom 95% of her time.

Emma sighs; she's not looking at him but she knows he's dropped the fight by the way his breathing slows and his ranting stops.

“Did I do something, love?”

This time his question comes in a whisper.

He moves across her tiny living room and kneels down before her. His hand is on her knee and without thought; he strokes his thumb in small circles.

She tells him.

— ღ — 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's going to be two years since I joined the CS fandom and I'm pretty certain this story has been around in my head probably just as long. I'm taking the day off so I'm going to be working on editing and just putting it out there finally. Take it as my last bit of contribution to fandom for right now. I still do have a couple one shots that I'm going to try to finish before the week's end so maybe I'll get to those as well.


	2. Two

— ღ — 

It's a fight.

Everything becomes a fight.

He wants to be there for her. He wants to be involved. He wants to _help her_. He wants to fucking give her his money.

Emma wants none of it.

She hates the extra attention. She hates the concerned way he starts looking at her. As if she's this fragile and breakable thing. She hates that whatever their relationship used to be, is not anymore because there's that little something growing inside her and apparently, that's everything they can talk about now.

Or _fight_ about, better yet.

She wants to give it up.

_He_ doesn't.

He wants to raise it. He wants to be a father. He wants to be a family.

Emma snorts and quite literally laughs on his face when he says this.

Killian grows flustered and angry and walks away.

He doesn't give up though.

So they fight. They continue to fight as the days and eventually the weeks continue to pass.

Emma does her best to ignore it. She ignores her body changing until she absolutely just can't anymore. She ignores the aches just as much as she ignores the kicks. She doesn't want her life to be this. She doesn't want Killian worrying day in and day out about making ends meet now that there's going to be someone else in his care.

He worries. He worries all the damn time and he swears Emma doesn't notice  

She watches him; sees him when his eyes shift to the distance after an argument and he starts picking at the skin of his fingers or scratches at the back of his head.

He worries about her. He worries about the baby. He worries so much about the future and Emma feels guilty.

Because even if it took the two of them to get them in this situation, it was Emma who ignored it until it was much too late to get rid of it.

Not that she thinks she would have been able to do _that —_ but maybe she should have figured out a way to deal with this on her own before it became _this._

She should have figured out a way to spare Killian and his good heart the hardship and ache of this entire situation.

 — ღ —   

It's during an argument — _a fight_ — that he shouts at her “ _then let **me** keep it!”_

Emma's again considering giving the baby up for adoption. The days keep passing and her due date becomes the very day she dreads the most. A day filled with unknown and fear.

But then he's so angry and disappointed too, perhaps. There are tears in his eyes when he just throws his hands in the air and steps in front of her.

“You don't have to be involved for all that I care,” he spits. “This is _my_ kid, so just...when it's born, it'll be _my_ responsibility. You don't have to do a thing, just, you—” His voice cracks making Emma gasp and her eyes to go wide.

It's not even the proposition that shocks her. It's the fact that he cares _so much_. That this is hurting him so much. That he's crying. That he's so tired of this. So weary and although she wishes the solution was as simple, it isn't.

She doesn't say anything back.

Killian gives his head a shake before walking out of her apartment.

— ღ —   

Two days later, Emma crosses the hallway to his apartment when she knows he is home. It's late and she has work in the morning but this is important.

She tells herself as much anyway. She tells herself it can't wait otherwise she very well may change her mind.

So a little after midnight, just a few minutes after he's made it home, she goes to his apartment and knocks on the door. It takes him a moment to answer although he doesn’t look surprised that it's her.

He studies her fully before speaking, and she kind of hates it that he does. It makes her self-conscious —self-conscious of her appearance for the first time, probably _ever,_ in front of him, and she hates it.

It’s late and she's already in her pajamas, she didn’t see a point to change back into clothes if she was just going across the hallway.

Still, it's easier to tell she's pregnant when she's not hiding it under layers and layers of regular clothing, so she knows he’s taking notice of the way her stomach curves these days.

She hates the way he looks at her —so intently and soft, as if she's beautiful and important to him.

Is not a new thing, he’s always done it when it’s just them and it’s late like right now, but…

But now things are different and she doesn’t like it.

She's tired and sleepy, and she knows he can tell too.

Yet here he is looking at her as though she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

She’s _not_.

Emma shifts on her feet, but he still doesn’t speak.

Killian sighs instead and Emma knows he’s preparing himself for the fight he's more or less sure is about to take place between them.

He leans against his door and watches her as she fidgets with her hands. “Swan,” he starts, yet stops seemingly stunned when Emma suddenly looks up at him and meets his eyes.

Emma decides she just needs to say what she came here to say or it’s going to kill her —Killian too, probably. “Okay,” she tells him simply.

Killian's eyes narrow, he's confused. He doesn’t understand for a few more moments what she’s _really_ saying. Emma doesn't elaborate in any way. She just stares at him until it dawns on him what she means. “You mean…–”

“Yeah,” she cuts him off, and nods.

Her eyes trail downwards again after that. She doesn’t want to see Killian struggling to find the words to say back, or worse, to tell her he’s changed his mind and he doesn’t want this.

“Emma,” he manages to say then, but that’s all he says.

“Can you _really_ do this?” Emma may not be able to properly meet his eyes, but she still needs to hear him say that he’s _sure_ ; completely positive this is what he wants. She needs to make sure this is the right decision; she needs to make sure he—

“Yes, I can.”

Emma regards him softly, then asks again, “Do you really _want_ this?”

“More than anything, Emma,” he promises, without hesitation. “I don't want it to be in the system if it doesn't _have_ to, love. I may not know fully what I'm getting into, but I'd rather struggle to figure it out _with the baby,_ than allow a child of mine to get lost in the system like us.”

She knows he's right. She's here right now because she knows in her heart he's right and she wouldn't want this child to be in the system if it absolutely doesn't have to either.

She knows now she has to do this. She can’t overthink it more because if she does —if she does she’s certain she will change her mind and she can’t do that.

“Okay,” she repeats instead.

Killian nods. Relief washing over him. “Okay.”

— ღ — 

 

 


	3. Three

— ღ — 

Even if they aren’t completely sure what they just did, Killian still ushers her inside his apartment that night. There’s probably a lot they still need to talk about anyway, or so that’s what he tells her.

The first words that come from Emma as soon as he shuts the door behind them, are _clearly n_ ot what Killian had in mind, however.

“I have conditions.”

He turns to her in an instant, his face falling. “Excuse me, _what_?”

Emma’s eyes widen at his reaction —of course she’s already screwing this up and they haven’t even started the actual conversation. She shakes her head at him. “No no, not like that,” she assures him. “I mean,” she pauses, licking her lips, rethinking her words slowly. “This is _your_ child, okay?” She says, and waits until he nods his head in reply. “That isn’t going to change. You can do whatever you want with it when it's born. But I mean —I meant _for now,_ Killian —for now, things _have_ to change,” she tells him seriously. “I _need_ you to just… _back off._ ”

Emma slowly sees her words starting to make sense in him as his expression changes. She knows hearing the reassurance that the baby is his and his alone, relaxed him a little, yet not completely by any means. She sighs, deciding to just keep going in hopes to put as much on the table as she can right now.

“I don't want you hovering like you have these last few weeks. _I_ am _not_ your business. I am not yours to worry about. The baby is, and I'll do my best to keep you informed about everything but you're going to have to promise me that you're going to back off.”

It’s hard for her to see Kilian look so conflicted. He's looking at her as though everything coming out of her mouth is a curse word. Something horrible he can barely fathom she's saying.

Emma can’t exactly stop now however. She needs one more thing to be completely clear between them. “After the baby is born, that's it between us, all right? You raise this baby and you leave me alone…”

Killian frowns and shakes his head at that. “We live in the same bloody apartment building, Emma,” he points out, needlessly.

Emma doesn’t appreciate the reminder. “Then I'll move if I have to,” she says even though it's a lie. She can't afford to move even if she truly needed it. Still, “That’s not my point anyway and you know it. I just _need you_ to understand that just because I'm having the baby doesn't mean anything between us is going to change. You want to keep it, that's fine, but I want you to promise me you aren't going to be forcing this child on me tomorrow or in a few months or years, okay?”

The fact that she’s even asking him that, hurts him, and she sees it in his eyes.

“I —I'd never do that, Swan.” He tells her curtly. “I promise you...it, it’s my baby, I get that, all right…”

“Okay, good….” Emma says, nodding to herself for a moment. She licks her lips and breathes out deeply —allows a lot of the tension in her body to leave her. “I...I just want to stop fighting, Killian.”

“I want to stop fighting too,” he promises, and she sees it right there, the tiredness in his voice, his weariness, and defeat. It breaks her heart. “I just, I wanna help Emma.”

“Then leave me alone. If I need you or your help in any way, I will tell you.”

Killian looks at her sadly at that —that’s a lie and they both know it. “You won't though. That's just who you are.”

He’s not wrong, but it isn’t as though that changes anything. “Well, you got to let me do it then. Promise me?”

“All right, fine —fine, I'll back off but….if it involves the baby, then it _is_ my business and I expect you to respect that as well”

Emma nods. “That's ...fair, okay…”

“Okay”

— ღ — 

Even though he thought everything they had to discuss was discussed the night Emma came to him, Killian finds himself unable to shut his brain when it comes to her and their future days after that.

It’s with very little thought that he decides he _needs_ to see her, and they _need_ to talk things out some more.

He waits a few minutes after she’s come home from work. He has to head to work soon so he can’t give her more than a few minutes before he’s at her door knocking.

Emma’s first reaction at the sight of him is that of exasperation, so Killian is quick to ask her calmly if they can talk for just a moment.

Her face falls, and he knows she’s frustrated with him. She thought they’ve already done that the other night, and to be fair, so did he, but…

He still needs this.

“I’m not here to fight,” Killian rushes to say, reading that telltale expression of panic in her face. “We talked about this already the other night, we are trying to be adults about this situation, remember?”

“Right,” Emma says. She walks back into her apartment, sitting on her couch and looking over at him expectantly after he shuts the door and joins her. “So what do you want?”

Killian sighs, waiting a beat before sitting next to her on the couch. “I’ve been thinking a lot about the other night, what we talked, and I…I want to make sure we are both on the same page…”

“Right, yeah,” Emma says again, and not for the first time, Killian notices just how tired she looks. He’s used to seeing those patches of blackish-grey under her eyes, but these days it’s different. She’s just exhausted, and that fire and passion that he’s used to always seeing in her seems to be gone.

Or at least, _drained_ for the time being.

It saddens him.

All the same, he pushes. “What does leaving you alone exactly mean?”

Emma’s eyes widen with surprise, but she’s quick to recover and form an answer. “It means you stop showing yourself into my apartment like this,” she tells him frankly. “You stop worrying about what I eat or don’t —you stop looking at me like this—”

“Like this?”

“Yeah,” Emma stresses. “You’re worried _all the time._ I don’t want that, I don’t want this, I just want…” She trails off, shaking her head slightly. “Listen, I’m healthy and as far as I know, so is the baby, so let me do my thing until it’s born, okay?”

Slowly he starts nodding his head, processing the words. Suddenly, his head jerks up and he meets her eyes.

“What?”

“What if I see you in the hallway? I can say hello, right?”

Emma frowns.

“I can ask you how you are, can’t I?”

She puffs a breath. “You’re impossible,” she tells him, and for a minute, a teeny tiny moment in time, it feels like old times. Him being an idiotic pain in the ass, and Emma calling him on it with no hesitation.

Killian smiles, leaning back on the couch. He closes his eyes and massages his temple.

He can feel Emma’s eyes on him, watching him for all of a beat before breathing deeply and relaxing back on the couch herself.

“I guess it’s okay if you say hi…” She says then.

“Good,” Killian replies, although his eyes stay closed. He breathes deeply. “You can say hello to me too if you see me by the way…” he adds lightly, shifting his head sideways and opening his eyes.

Killian is quiet after that, just looking at her, thinking.

His brow knits eventually as yet another thought crosses his mind. He hesitates before he asks his next question, and when he does, his words come slow and cautious “Can I touch your stomach?”

“No,” Emma doesn’t hesitate at all before replying. “No, definitely not, that is absolutely off limits,” she says, resolutely. “God Killian, I’m impressed you even have the nerve to ask that…”

Killian understands, he’s not happy about it, but he understands. He nods slowly. “What about the appointments, the baby appointments I mean?”

Emma’s face falls and Killian gets it too. They’ve discussed this before; they’ve _fought_ about this before —a _lot._ “Killian,” she says, almost pleadingly. “Those appointments are as much about me as they are about the kid —I don’t, I don’t want you there…”

He nods again, he doesn’t like what she’s saying one bit, but he can respect it nonetheless. “You’ll let me know if something’s up?”

“With the kid, _yes.”_

Killian shakes his head, ever so slightly, his eyes turned down. “I can’t just stop worrying about you, I —bloody hell, Emma, you, uh...I—”

“You want this to work?” She cuts him off at once, asking him seriously.

Killian is quiet, staring at those eyes of hers before nodding, sharply.

Emma continues. “Then you gotta be okay with this. If there’s anything happening with the baby that concerns you, I’ll let you know. I swear, but beyond that, I’m not your business.”

He thinks about it for a beat or so before just nodding. “Fine,” he grunts.

Emma nods.

“What about after it’s born?”

Emma looks at him, obviously confused. “Well, what—” She shakes her head, starts over. “ _You_ get to call all the shots after it’s born; you’ll be in control then Killian,” she tells him, her voice soft.

Honestly, that is it for him a lot of the time lately. How _not_ in control he is about this whole situation right now.

He nods, accepts her assurances for now.

They discuss a few more things, _money_ one of them, Killian refusing completely to take any of _her_ money, even though he’s definitely going to be tight on it if he expects to cover all the baby’s expenses on his own.

They agree to disagree for now anyway.

He’s just about at her door, about to leave her apartment when Emma stops him.

She’s up from her couch quickly, catching up with him by the doorway.

He looks at her wearily, a little afraid she’s about to call it quits to everything and decide he’s not the best chance for their child after all.

She just speaks then without warning, and it stuns him.

“It’s a girl,” she says.

He doesn’t have a response to that, he can barely process what she’s said, so he just stares.

Emma smiles a little, gives her shoulders a little shake, and then adds, “You’re having a daughter,” she says. “They told me the first time I went for a scan, so a few weeks ago, I...I thought you should know that…”

And although he still can’t speak, his lips seem to curl upwards on their own accord. He nods at her after a beat; a nod that he hopes translates his gratitude toward her. Despite the circumstances, he’s so very thankful to her for doing this and he truly wishes she knows it.

Emma nods back at him as well, before she walks into her apartment and stands by her door. “Night Killian.”

He’s still at a loss for words, but still manages another nod and a small smile as she closes the door.

He breathes deeply, allowing his eyes to close.

_A daughter._

_His daughter._

He runs a hand over his face and forces himself to breathe and to make his stupidly hammering heartbeat slow down.

_A daughter…bloody hell._

— ღ — 


	4. Four

 — ღ — 

Time passes, of course, as it does, and before she knows it, Emma isn’t able to ignore the changes in her body anymore.

It makes for a strange few days at first —catching herself in the mirror and seeing that big front she isn’t used to seeing.

It’s getting normal now though — _seeing it_ at least.

As Emma has come to realize, the bigger the bump gets, the more uncomfortable she finds it. It’s hard to move and even breathe at times; it’s hard to sleep even though she’s beyond exhausted. It’s hard to keep focused at work when a kid the size of a melon is doing acrobatics inside her. It’s hard to stand from places, or walk too much, or even eat some things without paying for it later.

It’s definitely not an option to ignore _it_ anymore.

But she deals.

She tries anyway.

She sees Killian sometimes —going in and out of their building. Whenever she has an appointment with the doctor, she allows him in her apartment afterwards so they can discuss what’s going on with the kid.

Emma gives him all the prints they give her after every scan —she figures the fewer reminders of the babe inside her, the least attached to it she’ll get.

She stubbornly ignores the very first scan that she still keeps at the bottom of her nightstand drawer and has ever since that first appointment. She refuses to share that one with Killian.

But she also refuses to acknowledge it’s there most of the time. If she pretends it’s not there, it is as though it actually isn’t, right?

Killian is excited about meeting the kid —or so he tells her every time he sees her anyway. Which is sweet and Emma can appreciate the genuine excitement in him.

Still…

At the same time, it nags at her because before —well, before all this, running into Killian Jones in the hallways meant the idiot would have a flirty comment for her. A flirty comment that would always make her smile. Running into him meant they'd be most likely sharing a drink later. They’d have pizza and beer on Mondays most weeks, his day off. That used to be one of the highlights of her weeks —not exactly because of the sex that would almost always follow, but not exactly _not_ because of it either.

Emma sees Killian these days still —-definitely less than before, but not less so enough that she should be missing him as much as she is.

But she is. She does.

She misses him even when they are in the same room.

She misses him when he’s rambling about whatever baby book he’s reading at the moment and “ _Bloody hell, Swan, ‘what to expect when you’re expecting’ might just be the bloodiest most terrifying book I’ve ever picked up.”_

In short, she misses her friend, not the father of her unborn child.

 — / —

She doesn’t resent the baby though. She really doesn’t.

All the changes just fucking petrify her.

 — ღ   —

She’s further along enough that she _has_ to start her leave at work soon. It’s not ideal, but given she’s not going to be caring for an infant after the birth, she’s expecting to be back to work (to her paycheck) relatively soon.

She tries not to think about it too much though —about actually giving birth to this baby and then…

And then what really?

She thinks it’ll be easier to just...not see it. Hand it over to Killian and leave it at that.

The truth is though, she doesn’t know if she’s going to be able to do just that.

She feels the baby move a lot.

She can feel her toes especially as of late.

Every time she decides to start moving around, her toes end up lodged up somewhere up there in Emma’s ribs more often than not. It’s one of the most painful things she’s dealt with this pregnancy. That, and the damn constant backache she can’t alleviate with anything.

The pains and aches are a reminder though. A reminder that she _is_ growing a human being from scratch and one day (one day stupidly soon) that baby is going to come out and she’s going to be Killian’s daughter.

Emma does wonder how is it going to be when she runs into them randomly on the hallway? Is she just going to be that baby’s neighbor or…

What is _he_ planning to tell the kid as she grows up?

They haven’t discussed any of this yet, and so far, Emma’s been completely okay with that.

She doesn’t _want_ to think about any of it, and yet…

Yet most of the times she just _can’t_ make herself stop thinking about it.

The future…

She thinks maybe he’ll move away. Not immediately, she doesn’t _think_ so, he hasn’t said anything on the matter, and unlike her apartment, his at least has two bedrooms and a more ample living space than hers.

But she thinks eventually moving away may be something he’ll want to do. Perhaps he’ll want to just start over with his kid somewhere else. Somewhere he doesn’t have to run into his child’s absentee birth mom on the way to work or daycare.

Emma thinks maybe that’ll make things easier for everybody.

It may also break her, but it’s not as though she can allow herself to think about that right now.

So she doesn’t.

 — ღ — 

It’s a shock when _he_ is there when she walks into her apartment after work —her last day of work for now.

It takes her by surprise, just seeing him _there —_ on her couch, as if that’s the most normal thing when she specifically told him not to do this again.

Ever.

They both have each other’s apartment keys —it made sense, keep a copy in the apartment across the hall in case they found themselves locked out.

That was _then,_ however.

Now things are so damn different and the last thing Emma wants is come home to find Killian in her apartment.

To say she’s pissed would be a bit of an understatement.

“Whu—what? What the fuck Killian?!” Emma shouts at him without thought. He looks up at her with eyes as wide as she’s ever seem them. So blue and so big, and he clearly didn’t expect her to react like this.

“Bloody Hell, Emma, I’m—”

“You what?” She shouts again. “What the hell are you doing here? Why? What the fuck?”

“Emma”

“WHAT?”

He sighs, one hand running over his face, completely mortified. “I needed to talk to you.”

“So you just helped yourself into my apartment —even though we agreed _months ago_ you weren’t going to do that ever again?”

“I’m sorry, Emma.” Killian insists. “Listen, I was going to wait for you to come back from work, I wasn’t going —I didn't think, I’m sorry about ambushing you, I just...it’s important.”

Her anger halts at that for whatever reason. She looks at him, rolling her eyes, but relaxing slightly at last. She sits with a plop on her couch and looks at him. “I’m listening.”

Killian takes in a deep breath and speaks without any preamble. “When you’re in labor, what —what’s, what’s going to happen then?”

Emma looks at him, almost not believing the words he’s saying. “You came into my apartment for… _this_?”

“Emma,” he says, and she can tell he’s actually being serious. “I understand your reasons not to want me at your monthly doctor appointments; I’m dealing with that, but what about when the baby is born?”

She bites her lip, realizing she actually hasn’t allowed herself to give much thought to _that_ before right now. She sighs, because the reason he’s here, the reason this is _important,_ is because deep down Killian already knows what she’s going to tell him.

“I can’t have you there.”

His face falls, disappointment washing over him.

Emma feels for him, she truly does.

This is something that is not up for discussion though. “I’m sure there are people I can speak with —I’ll do my best to make sure you’re allowed to be with the baby as soon as possible, but…” She trails off, feeling his frustration radiating off him.

“You can’t just…be alone,” he tells her eventually.

Emma stares at him, with something like disbelief in her features. “I’ve always been alone, Killian, it won’t be anything new.”

He shakes his head, as if simply refusing to accept what she’s saying.

“This isn’t right—” He starts, but Emma cuts him off.

 “I won’t have you there with me. I just won’t, so…”

He purses his lips, fists clenching and unclenching as he thinks — “What if you change your mind on the day?”

“I won’t,” Emma insists, resolutely.

Killian is trying his best to remain calm, but Emma knows it’s a struggle. “I will still be there,” he says then, his tone serious and just as resolute as Emma’s.

She narrows her eyes in any case, and just as she’s about to start argue, he adds, “I’ll be outside your hospital room—the whole time, I don’t care how long it takes, I swear I’ll be there.” He promises. “Emma, I don’t —I don’t want you to do this alone. I’ll be there, if for whatever reason you want to change your mind, I’ll be there…I swear…”

She tilts her head, looking at him, regarding him and that goodness in him she truly never would have guessed he possessed when she first met him.

She should have known that outward person he tries to sell is nothing but a shell shielding him from pain and heartache as best as he can.

She sighs, resigning herself to his stubbornness for now. “I can’t stop you from doing that, can I?”

“No,” Killian replies simply.

She just stares at him for a moment. “Okay,” she tells him in the end, but before he can start getting his hopes up, she adds. “I won’t be changing my mind though…”

 — ღ — 

 

 


	5. Five

 — ღ — 

She goes into labor sometime in the middle of the night a couple of weeks later. She tries to convince herself it isn’t actually labor as best as she can at first.

She goes about her day —she _tries_ to go about her day. She talks herself into believing she isn’t due for another week or so, so this can’t possibly be the real thing.

And anyway, she does have a plan for when she _really_ goes into labor —she has the number of a reliable car service Killian found (because she refused to allow him to drive her to the hospital). She is to call him as soon as she’s sure she’s in labor too. She promised to do as much.

But she isn’t so she hasn’t done it yet,

Even as the pain turns from very uncomfortable to almost unbearably painful, she still refuses to admit this may be it.

She can’t be about to give birth to this baby.

She can’t.

She can’t do it.

She waits it out instead, biting her lips, and muffling her cries on her pillows every time the pain comes. She wants to scream but also not.

She wants to curl up in a ball and pretend nothing at all is actually happening.

She’s scared.

When the pain lulls for more than a few minutes, Emma manages to stand up. Her legs feel like jelly, but she still makes it to the bathroom and into her shower. She adjusts the water as hot as she can bear it, and surprisingly, it does help.

Her waters haven’t broken —not as far as she’s aware, so deep inside she’s still naively hopeful this is just a false alarm. _Killian_ has told her about those, after all.

She feels some pains in the shower —a couple, maybe a few more, but the intensity is notably lesser than before.

Be it her luck, not a whole minute after she’s stepped out of the shower, her waters _do_ break.

The pain that accompanies it, is intense —probably the most intense one thus far, and she cries, falling to her knees.

It feels like forever to her before the pain stops, but it’s not long after, that it starts again. Emma is up on her hands and knees, for whatever reason, hoping the position will help relieve the pain on her back. She sways and doesn’t realize when the tears start falling.

She has a plan, she reminds herself. She can do this. She _has_ to be able to do this, so while the pain fades for more than a moment, she forces herself to her feet and goes to her bedroom.

She struggles, but she dresses herself.

She closes her eyes, sitting at the edge of her bed. She breathes as deeply as she can, and strokes slow circles over her rounded stomach. There’s only one thought in her brain the whole time  — _this is it._

 — ღ — 

In the end, she doesn’t need to call Killian before he just shows up. She’s still sitting on her bed, crying through another horrid pain, when suddenly he’s just _there_ and at her side, whispering little nothings in her ear trying to help her cope with the pain as much as he can.

“Love…”

Emma hears his voice distant, even though logically she knows he’s sitting right beside her. She tries to focus on her breathing, on willing the pain away. When it stops, she pants, eyes fluttering open slowly to meet his. “I was just…I was just about to call you, I swear…”

There are tears in her eyes when she looks at him. Emma hopes against hope he can’t see the fear, the heartbreak, the milliard of feelings she’s avoided feeling for the last few months.

She has a feeling he can though. She’s an open book to him —at least that’s what he used to say.

He cradles her in his arms in any case, and Emma loves (hates also) how secure and loved she feels right then. “It’s all right, love. Everything’s all right; you’re going to be all right…”

Emma lets out a heavy breath, she knows she needs to breathe —she needs to calm herself down, _focus_. She doesn’t intend her deep breath to turn into a sob, but then it does, and within seconds, Killian’s protectively hugging her to him tighter and it inevitably makes her cry harder.

“You’re all right love, you’re all right…” He repeats, as though he’s repeating a mantra he’s not all the sure he believes himself, but still _has_ to say. Emma doesn’t know what to do, she doesn’t know if she can speak, so she shifts slightly, tries her best to contain her sobs, and instead looks at him in the eye.

He smiles —for whatever Goddamn reason, he manages a smile then and Emma feels her insides melting. “Wee babe is on her way, eh?” He says softly.

Her body is still shaking slightly, and she’s not completely sure she heard him right, but Emma still nods at him. She closes her eyes tight, pushing air into her lungs, and hoping, truly hoping the pain will stay away for at least a couple more minutes.

She vaguely remembers the importance of the contractions —of them getting too close together, of the imminent birth of the baby—

“Ah, ow, _fuck_!” She hisses, and she can feel Killian’s hold on her tightening. She struggles to catch her breath, but he’s here and for more than one reason that means the world to her right now. He holds her tight, and strokes her back as the tightening passes and she relaxes once more in his arms.

She feels boneless in his hold, completely drained from all her strength and energy.

“I’m driving you to the hospital, Emma.” Killian says then.

She knows she would have fought him on this one any other day. She has actually fought him on this at least on ten different occasions already. She’s refused to allow him to drive her, help her in any way really, time and time again. She just can’t bring herself to do that right now though.

She feels fear like she hasn’t in her life in a very long time. She feels physically sick, shaky and as though she’ll fall the second she tries to stand on her two wobbly legs.

She nods her head at Killian —her nose rubs against his chest, and it hits her for the first time that this is the closest the two of them have been since the weeks before she’d gotten pregnant.

Killian nods too, taking a moment himself to collect his thoughts before looking down at her and steadily meeting her eyes. “You’re going to be okay…”

 — ღ —    

Barely two hours later, she’s settled on a bed with a shit lot of machines hooked to her stomach to monitor the baby. More importantly, she’s finally pain free after the epidural.

She’s as comfortable as she can probably expect to be in her current condition, and almost drifting off to sleep when one of the nurses of course chooses that moment to come into her room.

Emma’s annoyed, but then when she tells her _he_ is outside her room and hoping he can see her for a few minutes, her annoyance fades instantly.

Emma thinks about it for only a small moment —far shorter than she would have guessed she needed. When she answers, when she _nods_ at the nurse, she’s surprised herself at the sudden development of events.

The truth is, she figures she owes Killian — _at the very least_ — a thank you for bringing her to the hospital. She panicked and while she knows eventually she would have gotten her shit together enough to get herself to the hospital, one-way or the other, she’s still too damn relieved she didn’t have to. She’s happy Killian happened to lose his patience and used that emergency key of hers he keeps. He was there in time to deal with the worst of her freak out and for that Emma’s thankful.

It turns out she’s just a little over half way there with labor. The pain has lessened considerably now that she’s gotten pain relief, and while getting that needle on her back wasn’t the most pleasant of experiences, she’s forever thankful for modern medicine right then all the same.

Not a whole minute after the nurse has left, Killian rushes inside her hospital room. He didn’t even knock, or if he did, Emma didn’t hear it. He looks frazzled, wildly searching for her in the room.

Emma still startles and gasps at the sight of him.

Their eyes lock after a beat and if she didn’t know better, Emma would say he looks panicked.

“Oh no, please don’t….” Killian says as she tries to sit up. He shakes his head at her, taking long steps toward her bed. “Please don’t move on my account, love…” he says, gently putting one of his hands on her shoulder.

Emma looks over at his hand. It’s not even as if she minds that he’s touching her —at all; he’s reassuring her, and she actually appreciates it.

Still, it’s more a reflex, a reminder of those invisible boundaries between them that he is supposedly not to cross anymore.

Killian notices her eyes on him soon enough, and immediately moves his hand away.

He smiles at her shyly instead and Emma can tell he’s utterly nervous. She thinks of the two of them, he’s the one that looks more anxious and scared right now.

Not that she’s not scared shitless herself; she absolutely is, but Killian looks as though he’s about to pass out, or cry, _or both,_ from the nerves alone.

“I’m okay, you know?” Emma decides to assure him.

He doesn’t look like he believes her. “You are?”

“Mmhm,” Emma nods at him, even attempts to form a smile in hopes to calm _him_ down a little.

“Are you still in much pain love?”

She shakes her head. Emma is not sure if she hates or loves the way his voice trembles when he speaks. It is as though the idea of her in pain is really so traumatic to _him._

Part of her wants to remind him that _she is_ the one in labor.

The other part of her though, the bigger part of her actually, just wants to reassure him. She shakes her head, again works on a smile just for him. “Got stabbed by a giant needle on my back —that seemed to do the job, most of the pain is gone, I promise…”

He nods, but is still looking far from convinced. He waits a moment, thinks about his words, before just asking her. “ _Most_ of the pain?”

Emma almost wants to laugh.

She doesn’t though —because she _is_ in labor and a little bit of pain still. “Your baby is trying to make her way out of _me —_ I can definitely still feel _some_ of it, but it’s a lot better than it was. I can handle it.”

“Of course you can.” Killian says quickly. The words just kind of spill out of him and for a second he looks even surprised he said them.

Emma sees the second he realizes he’s actually not sorry he did though. He chins up then a little and adds, “I mean it love,” he says, and just out of principle alone, she rolls her eyes.

“Thank you,” she says anyway, then waits a moment to speak again. She knows what they need to discuss —what he probably wants to ask her, what he thinks and hopes she’s changed her mind about. Emma’s heart breaks a little as she speaks then. “I still can’t have you here, Killian…” She says because she has to. She doesn’t want him to get ideas that aren’t possible just because she agreed to see him for a bit.

His expression at her words is sad, _really_ sad.

She wets her lips, looks at him as he fidgets with something in his pants pocket. “They did say you’ll see her as soon as she’s born…”

It warms Emma’s heart the way her words _immediately_ bring a smile to his face. “Aye, the nurse said you’d worked some kind of magic, made sure I’d see her, and then even be able to stay with the babe until she’s discharged…”

Emma shrugs. “You’re her dad.”

“Aye, love…” He says. “That I am.”

Again, his expression changes; he’s conflicted she knows, and to be fair, so is she, but having him here…

She can’t do that.

They aren’t a couple. He isn’t her partner in this. She’s not his… _love._ She’s not—

She’s not this baby’s mother.

She _can’t_ be this baby’s mom.

“Thank you for the ride, Killian…”

His smile then is sad. “Of course…”

 — ღ — 

Labor is… _not_ fun. She didn’t lie before; _most_ of the pain did disappear with the epidural. However, the closer to delivery she is, the more the pain starts to reawaken.

She’s been in the hospital for a little over twelve hours —half a day, and since seeing Killian an hour or so after admittance, she hasn’t seen him again.

She’s had about three different nurses on her care so far, each one of them has happened to mention the “ _Baby’s dad”_ waiting outside. “ _He’s looking absolutely wrecked, honey_ ,” the last one told her, making Emma’s heart almost stutter in her chest. Of course the nurse then quickly assured her it was absolutely normal in new dads-to-be to be looking so frazzled, and then continued to tell her how he also lit up like a Christmas tree the second he heard the baby was close.

Which is happening right now it seems. She’s apparently _there_ and they’ll be coming shortly to wheel her to the delivery room.

Or so Emma has been told.

She’s struggling to relax, to breathe deeply, and to slow down her heartbeat to think much about the next part.

(She’s scared)

She sees Killian immediately when the nurse pushes her gurney out into the hallway a few minutes later. He’s a few feet away but starts walking immediately in her direction when he sees her. Their eyes lock and suddenly she’s scared out of her mind once again —she starts shaking and she almost wants to tell him to come do this thing with her, but—

“There you are,” he says softly. He bends his knees slightly, makes sure their eyes are aligned and she can see properly the soft smile in his face. “You’re going to be all right, Swan…You’ve got this…”

“Yeah?”

“Aye,” he says.

Emma sees him hesitating for just an instant, before he simply goes for it, tenderly cradling her cheek in his hand. He looks at her for what feels ages, but then he tilts his head, smiling at her. “I’ve yet to see you fail, love.”

She chuckles —she’s not sure where she’s able to muster the strength to laugh, but somehow she does, and the reason for it is Killian himself.

She breathes in deeply, closing her eyes for a beat.

He removes his hand when the nurse at the head of her gurney tells them both they have to keep going. “Love?” He calls, and Emma opens her eyes directly to meet his. He doesn’t ask the question —he looks at her, asks with his heart in his eyes the questions he can’t put into words.

Emma sighs. “I’ve got this,” she assures him because she has too —because if anything, she _has_ to be strong enough to do _this_. “You’ll meet your baby soon, I promise…”

He purses his lips, as if that will help him keep his emotions in check. “Thank you, Emma…” He tells her simply.

Emma nods.

 — ღ — 

Emma sees Killian a grand total of three times while she’s in the hospital. The third and last time, he’s in her room as she wakes up from a pitiful nap.

“What —“ She trails off, sighing and licking her dry lips. “I didn’t say you could come in, you know?”

“I know,” he says, looking down into her eyes.

Emma blinks slowly, her eyes struggling to focus fully and properly on him.

He takes her in, no doubt noticing her tired features and sad eyes.

Emma looks away.

“You’re looking pale, love,” he says, and despite everything, Emma feels the ends of her mouth curl up just slightly with amusement.

Of course, the very first thing he tells her after she _gave birth_ of all things, is that she looks like a fucking ghost —a charmer, Killian is. No doubt about it.

Emma can’t make a remark about it before he’s asking her worryingly, “Do you need me to call a nurse? How are you feeling, love? Are you feeling ill at all? I could—”

“I’m good,” she replies quickly, and shakes her head at him as well. “I’m okay, I swear.” She says, but she’s lying.

She shifts on her back, and breathes deeply for a moment, staring up at the hospital ceiling. She hates it than she can still feel his eyes on her, the physical concern radiating off him, his nerves, she can almost feel his fear as her own, and she hates it.

“ _Fine,_ maybe I’m a little pukey, are you happy now?” She snaps when she turns to look over at him again.

“Oh Swan,” he says, but Emma shakes her head and speaks before he can voice any of his pity toward her.

“Is _she_ okay?” She asks, her voice trembling suddenly.

Despite everything, Killian lights up the second she asks him about the baby. “She’s beautiful,” he tells her without hesitation. “Bloody beautiful and healthy…”

Emma can’t quite meet his eyes, but the corners of her mouth do shift upwards a little bit. Killian smile grows. “You did marvelous, love.”

Emma doesn’t have a reply to that. Instead, her eyes wander over to the far corner of the room —that’s where her suitcase is and she knows inside it is the one blanket for the baby _she_ bought at some point.

Emma didn’t let herself buy anything else all these months. She’d stop at the baby sections at shops sometimes —a perfectly ordinary sight to anyone watching, she was sure. A pregnant lady idly eyeing baby clothes —nothing out of the ordinary.

Inside Emma always felt her heart almost tearing, going in all different directions at once. The pull (the _need_ ) to just _love_ that baby inside her —smile and feel all the little (and big) kicks was so big.

But then there was also the _other_ pull —the realistic one, the one that reminded her that she is not mother material and this baby is better off without her.

She bought that one blanket though.

Just the one.

And it’s blue actually —blue and not exactly a newborn blanket by any means. It’s slightly too big and not exactly light and maybe not even _that_ soft or even delicate enough for a newborn —Emma’s or otherwise.

_But,_ it _is_ blue, which made her think immediately of Killian’s eyes and how much she thought the baby was going to have blue eyes like him.

The fact that the blanket is covered with yellow ducks didn’t hurt one bit either.

For a ‘ _Swan’_ that’s felt way more like an ugly duckling her whole life, the damn blanket seemed to be fitting.

The lady ringing her items had even smiled at Emma. _“A brood of ducklings for your little duckling, huh?”_ she’d said, smiling big at Emma before offering her congratulations. For the first time ever that day, she’d just accepted the compliment as it came.

She doesn’t think she’ll be giving the baby the blanket —or give _Killian_ the blanket for the baby anyway. Maybe she’ll just keep it —as a silly (perhaps even sad) reminder that she did grow this baby inside her. Not that she could forget, but maybe she does need a little reminder anyway.

Maybe in another life—

“Would you like to meet her?”

Emma’s eyes snap up in his direction immediately at that question. She just stares at him, eyes wide and confused.

“If you wanted to love, I wouldn’t mind —I could just…bring her in…”

She knows in her heart he means well —he truly does, but it still feels as though he’s just twisting the knife to her heart.

“I don’t think so, Killian,” Emma tells him slowly. “I think for now is best you and I just do our own thing, you know?”

He nods, although he looks anything but happy about it. “Aye love…”

Emma sighs, “You should probably get back to her now.”

He answers with complete silence —just stares at her.

“If I ever do need something, I’ll go bother you when we are all home, I promise…”

“You will?”

“Yes,” Emma says even though she (they) know it’s most likely a lie. She truly doesn’t think she’ll _ever_ have the guts to _ask him_ for anything (he’s decided to raise their daughter all on his very own after all) but maybe one day her feelings will change. “Okay, _maybe_ I will…”

Killian nods. “Rest up all right, love?”

“I will,” Emma replies. “Take care of yourself Killian, and…”

But she can’t say it.

She hopes he hears it nonetheless and given the nod he gives her and the small smile on his face, Emma thinks maybe he did.

“I will…”

 — ღ — 

 


	6. Six

— ღ — 

Emma thought (naively so –so naively) that all the pains and aches of pregnancy would end the moment she gave birth to the baby.

To be fair, _most_ of her aches are gone (the teeny foot stuck in her ribs gone for sure)

It’s only been three days since she gave birth; Emma’s been home for a day, and while yesterday was uncomfortable, today the pain is almost unbearable. She did speak with some nurse or the other about breastfeeding, or truly, mainly, about _not_ breastfeeding. They explained the process to her, a simple supply and demand concept –when her body realizes there’s no infant to feed, the milk will dry, and that’d be the end of it. She was told it’d be painful, she just never thought it’d be _this_ painful.

Is the middle of the night and of course she’s lying in bed awake and almost in tears from the pain.

She was to be given a pump from the hospital; to relieve some of the pain she was told would come. Emma was supposed to pick it up today, but foolishly enough, she didn’t go thinking the pain wasn’t in fact too bad.

To make matters worse (so so much worse), she can hear the baby crying in Killian’s apartment. She knows the baby and Killian only made it home today —his apartment was dark and completely silent the night before. She heard the first cry right around 5pm or so, right around the time her pain started to become more than she could handle.

She’s tried just about everything to ease it, but nothing short of keeping ice directly to her chest seems to help —not much, but something.

She’s getting desperate.

She feels the tears falling to her face and maybe it’s not just the physical pain that has her in tears.

Perhaps it has also a little to do with that wee little part of her that’s across the hallway crying herself hoarse.

And it breaks her heart. Breaks it so much, because Emma may have never _seen_ how that little baby looks like, yet she knows she’ll be able to tell her cries from any other baby’s cries if she had to.

  — ღ — 

She bears the pain for another excruciating hour, coupled with her own cries and those of the baby in the apartment across the hall.

She’s not entirely sure what she’s doing when she finds herself grabbing a robe and marching out of her apartment.

She stands outside Killian’s door for a few minutes —she can hear the baby’s cries louder and louder from there and she hates it. It makes the pain worse, and it makes _her_ feel worse.

She braves a knock, a single knock hoping for the best —which she isn’t sure what it is, but she figures she’ll know when he answers, or _doesn’t_ answer his door for that matter.

In the end, he does.

Emma gasps when she sees him, their eyes meet at once, and she notices immediately his chest is bare and he isn’t actually holding the baby as she expected him to.

It takes her breath away, all the same, seeing him _here_ again —after _everything._

He looks as miserable as she feels, and for a tiny moment, Emma almost wants to just step into his arms, hug him and allow them both a moment to just cry.

She doesn’t do it though —although she does feel the telltale sign of tears burning in her eyes. She looks at him, his shocked face unable to look away from her, let alone form words, and just says. “She may stop crying if I nurse her.”

Killian looks even _more confused_ at those words —he shakes his head, as though to make his brain function and actually _think_ again, but it’s no use. “Excuse me, what?”

Emma sighs, pursing her lips and squeezing her eyes tight when more tears seem to want to escape. She hates talking on top of the baby’s wails. “I can’t make the pain stop, it, it just hurts, Killian…” She says as her face falls and she focuses her eyes on his floor. She refuses to look inside his apartment; she hasn’t been here in weeks, months almost, and she’s not sure this is how she wants to take her first peek at the baby.

 — ღ — 

It takes a few moments before it finally dawns on Killian what she’s saying. It didn’t make any sense for the longest time, but now…

Now he gets it, and somehow he feels relieved. He was almost getting desperate now, thinking about even heading back to the hospital, nothing he’s been trying actually working to soothe his baby.

Now, perhaps, he may just be able to.

Or not him really, but Emma—

“She hates the bottles,” Killian stammers out then, feeling as though he needs to explain himself to Emma.

He doesn’t want her thinking he’s the failure as a father he already feels he is. He wants her to know he’s tried everything he could to get her to eat, but she’s just so bloody stubborn and has refused his every try. “She won’t eat from any of the bottles I have —maybe is the formula she hates, but I’ve tried two different types and she’s still not having it….”

Emma looks up at him, and for whatever reason she looks calmer to him. “I can give it a try tonight,” Emma says. “If that’s okay.”

He nods at her strongly, reaching for her elbow, and gently ushering her into his home. She hesitates, and he’s not shocked that she does. Ever since she told him about her pregnancy, things have been awkward at best between them, and having her back here, after all this time...

Killian gets it, this cannot be easy for her, and yet she’s here and it truly means the world to him.

“She’s in her room, I set her down while I answered the door,” Killian rambles as they walk in the direction of the bedrooms. “I almost didn’t even answer the door,” he looks at her over his shoulder and smiles —fucking bloody smiles because after all the despair she’s here and the baby may just stop crying and he can’t contain his relief. “I almost bloody didn’t even hear your knock,” he tells her in utter disbelief. “Come here, have a seat love.”

Killian helps her to the rocking chair in one corner of the room, and Emma sits. He looks at her, looks at the way she trains her eyes hard on the floor, trying her very hardest not to look over at the baby’s crib.

“Hey, hey, Emma…”

He kneels in front of her, his hand on her knee, his voice breaking her from her thoughts.

Her eyes snaps up in his direction and Killian can only look at her softly, his eyes filled with tears just like hers as he says, “I’m bloody sorry you’re in so much pain love, we can figure something out if you can’t do this.”

“No,” Emma rushes to say. “Maybe this will help; maybe she’ll stop crying.”

“Aye,” Killian nods, his smile returning. He turns from her, cooing at the little bundle in the crib the whole time as he picks her up. “Here, here, little love; you’re just hungry darling…”

 — ღ — 

Killian’s kissing the baby’s tiny face tenderly when Emma finally looks at them. She can’t help smiling, because she’s truly never seen him like this. This side of him is completely new to her and she’s not completely prepared for it.

He looks tired, but happy and in love, all at the same time despite the crying infant in his arms.

Emma meets his eyes before he looks at her questioningly one last time. She nods at him, taking a deep breath as she settles in the chair and slowly feels Killian settling the small ( _way too small_ ) baby in her arms.

It takes her by surprise how terribly warm she is; how light and little she is. Far smaller than Emma expected her being. She takes a moment with her eyes closed before she finally dares glancing down at the baby’s face. She’s still squeaking little newborn cries, her face scrunched up with unease, wet with tears and yet…

And yet Emma can’t deny for a second how infuriatingly beautiful that little girl is. “Hi there,” Emma tries but her voice cracks.

She closes her eyes when she feels Killian’s hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. He’s smiling at her when she looks at him. “I’ll be out in the living room if you need me, all right?”

Emma nods; feeling terrified to the core about being alone with the baby. At the same time, she knows having him here while she attempts to nurse for the first time is not something she wants.

“Okay.”

Killian gives the baby one last look before he slowly steps out of the nursery.

Emma hesitates for more than a few moments before her eyes fall to the baby once more. She studies her tiny little features with more care this time. She cradles her tiny head carefully and tries to position her as best as she can.

The baby’s somewhat stiff in her arms and when she fails to get her to latch two times, Emma feels the tears returning and the pain intensifying again. She closes her eyes, cradling the baby closer to her this time, but without attempting to get her to latch. She holds her close for a bit before shushing noises unexpectedly start coming from her. She rocks the baby in her arms, cradling her little face close to her chest. She does this for a few moments, perhaps a few minutes until the baby’s cries somewhat lessen. She’s still shrieking, but Emma can tell she’s also slightly more relaxed as well.

Emma breathes deeply and without overthinking herself, decides to try again. She guides the baby’s mouth as best as she can, and while it takes her more than a few tries, eventually the baby decides maybe this isn’t so bad.

It still hurts when the baby finally does start nursing, perhaps slightly more than it did before, but Emma resists the urge to break the latch.

She closes her eyes, inwardly cursing and maybe even praying for the pain to lessen. It feels strange and more than a little uncomfortable to feel the baby nursing. She’s calm now though and Emma tries like hell to focus on that instead of the pain.

The baby settles within minutes, steadily sucking and making little noises that don’t resemble crying.

Slowly the pain in her chest also changes —the intense pressure seems to lessen, and Emma can somehow breathe again.

She rests her head back on the rocking chair, and continues to nurse the baby for a few more uninterrupted minutes.

She hears footsteps on the hallway outside the nursery and she mentally starts preparing to see Killian.

“Is she eating?”

He’s decided not to come into the room, respecting the privacy he promised her before. He stands against the wall outside the nursery. His voice soft and so full of relief.

“Yeah,” Emma says, hearing him sliding on the wall until his butt hits the floor.

“Thank God,” he says, but then changes his mind quickly. “Thank _you_ Emma, she—”

“What’s her name?” Emma whispers, keeping her eyes trained on the nursery’s door even though she can’t see any of Killian.

She hears him chuckle softly, and for a bit, she thinks maybe he won’t reply but then he says—“Daisy…Daisy’s her name…”

“What?”

“You heard me,” he tells her, and there’s no denying that hint of playfulness is in his tone now that the baby is settled. “What do you think?”

Emma takes a moment, she looks down at the baby falling asleep in her arms; the room’s only dimly lit, but she can still take in most of the little details of her sleepy face. She smiles to herself. “It’s a pretty name,” she tells Killian at last, very girly and cutesy, she thinks, but still pretty. “Why Daisy though?”

Emma’s not expecting him to say what he does then. “That flower tattoo on your wrist —I figured you like flowers…”

Emma actually has to contain a laugh at that —now that the worst of the pain is gone, she can actually appreciate his stupid comments somewhat. “What?” She whispers, and can hear him laughing under his breath. “I have a _buttercup_ on my wrist, you fool. I like _buttercups_ ; did you really name your kid because of my tattoo?”

He doesn’t answer right away and Emma knows he’s probably shrugging and pouting.

“I like the name, Emma; I think it suits the wee princess quite a bit…”

Emma considers his words while looking at the baby. She doesn’t answer. She can’t because if she were to, she’d be admitting Daisy is perhaps the most perfect name for the little baby in her arms.

She sighs instead and as delicately as she can, tries to shift the baby so she can nurse from her other side. She’s not sure how much or how long the baby is supposed to eat, but she’s still rooting for her breast – _albeit sleepily_ – so Emma follows her gut and tries her on her right side.

She smiles with much earned relief when the baby —when _Daisy,_ latches on without trouble this time and continues to nurse.

Emma’s almost sure Killian has dozed off against the wall when more than a few minutes pass by and he’s still quiet. She’s surprised when she hears him speak a moment later, “My mother, back in England, she used to grow a garden every year —Daisies used to be her favorite flower…”

Emma’s quiet for a moment at his confession —it’s rather personal.

Before all this, when it was just them and sex every once in a while, their relationship was never _really_ personal. They knew about each other’s jobs —perhaps a little too much, but in truth, whom else was Emma supposed to vent about her annoying coworkers than to Killian? Likewise, she loved hearing all the stories of the drama happening backstage at the theater Killian works.

They talked very little about their personal lives however —almost never about their pasts and their families. Killian knows she’s an orphan, and Emma knows this about him as well, but other than that, small precious details like the kind of flowers his late mother used to love and grow, were always off limits.

She’s glad she knows that now. “Daisy is a beautiful name, I’m sure your mom would be proud of you.”

He makes a noise Emma’s used to hear every time she compliments him in any way. “I, I don’t know about that love…” He says, and she knows he’s not just being self-deprecating, he truly doesn’t think so. “Look at me tonight, day one on my own with this little girl, and if it hadn’t been for you….I, I don’t know what I’d have done, Emma…”

Part of Emma doesn’t want to be part of his self-pity party.

The other part of her though, the traitorous one that seems to always win out, wants more but to reassure him. “You’re going to be okay, Killian…”

“Aye,” he agrees, but it’s less than heartfelt.

Emma sighs, shifting her attention to the baby. Daisy’s nursing has slowed down considerably by then and she seems to have fallen into a deeper sleep than before. Emma tries breaking the latch, finding little fight from Daisy. She covers herself back up, and holds onto this little baby for just a little while longer. “You really think it’s the bottles or the formula she doesn’t like?”

“I don’t know, love....” Killian says, honestly. “She was fed from bottles at the hospital and whatever she was given, I’m giving her, so...I truly don’t know. She was so unsettled, would actually take to the bottle at first sometimes, but then push it away and continue to wail…”

Emma feels for him —can hear his worry and almost sorrow. She’s quiet for a beat, but then just goes for it, and says…“I’m borrowing this pump thing from the hospital —I didn’t consider keeping any of the milk before, but maybe I could?” Emma asks, her eyes falling to the sleepy baby in her arms. “I’ll keep it in the fridge or the freezer, whatever. If you want, you could just grab whatever you need if you think the formula is what’s the matter with her…”

Killian is quiet, considering her offer, Emma thinks. “You’d really do that, Emma?”

She shakes her head because she doesn’t want to care, she wants to want him to just figure it out whatever way he can, and yet…

“I don’t want her to go hungry,” she tells him and it’s the truth. “I’m not that horrible a person, Killian.”

He makes a noise at that, clearly in disagreement. “Of course you’re not, I never….” He trails off. “What I mean to say is, _thank you….”_

 “Yeah,” Emma replies simply, her eyes steady on Daisy. “She’s asleep now, I think…”

“May I come in?”

“Yes, you’re good.”

Killian’s smile is pure and genuine as he walks back into the bedroom and his eyes settle on Daisy. He lifts her into his arms easily then and without hesitation.

Emma’s slightly afraid the baby is going to wake up, but she doesn’t. Instead, she curls into a little ball in his arms as Killian holds her. He pats her back softly; stroking her for a moment, then giving her a few more little pats.

“Night now darling,” he whispers, once Daisy is nice and burped. He drops a tiny little kiss to her cheek before gently lowering her in her crib.

Emma watches the way he does it, the bits of hesitation in his face, as though he already knows this won’t last long and soon enough she’s going to be wailing again.

“Stop thinking so hard, Killian,” she tells him, breaking his thoughts even though her voice isn’t louder than a whisper.

When he looks over at her, Emma smiles softly and shrugs. “If you can’t get her settled with a bottle, it’s okay if you knock on my door tonight —I may not have wanted this, but I’m not going to pretend there’s not a hungry newborn next door.”

For a few moments, he’s speechless and just stares at her. “Thank you Swan,” he says, and Emma can _feel_ his honest gratitude as he says the words.

“S’right…” She mumbles, a yawn escaping her. Now that she can focus on something other than the unbearable pain, she’s feeling the exhaustion of the last few days full force catching up with her.

Killian steps closer to her, quietly. “You should sleep now, love…” He says, tucking that bit of loose wavy hair behind her ear. “You’re still recovering…”

Emma nods as she does to stand.

“I think it’s advised you keep off your feet as much as you can —also drink lots of fluids, preferably water of course.”

She smiles indulgently at him as they walk toward the door. “Aye captain.”

He chuckles. Emma smiles at the sound even when she can’t exactly see any of his smile in the dark of his living room.

She looks at him just one more time before she’s saying her good nights and shuffling her feet across the hallway to her apartment. She didn’t bother to lock it earlier and she doesn’t bother locking it after she’s inside (in case Killian needs to reach her later in the night)

She feels it, the pang of emptiness when she walks into her bedroom. She can still almost smell Daisy’s newborn smell in her and it’s a bittersweet feeling as she crawls back in bed.

She doesn’t want to raise her.

She wants to keep going with her life.

She doesn’t want a child to depend on her fully.

She wants to go back to her life before all this mess started.

She doesn’t want to be a mother.

She wants Daisy to have her best chance in life, but…

But nothing. As she falls into a pitiful sleep, Emma continues to tell herself the one thing she knows absolutely… she _can’t_ be a mother.

 — ღ — 

It’s not even midnight when Killian knocks at her bedroom door, quietly and apologetically lamenting the baby’s refusing all her bottles once more.

_She can’t be a mother,_ Emma thinks, yet her feet move on their own accord as she sleepily pads her way across the short hallway and into Daisy’s nursery.

She does the same three or four more times that night before the clock even shows nine am in the display.

Emma goes without a fight each time.

_I can't be her mother,_ becomes sort of a mantra every time she walks the hallway to Killian's apartment.

The last time she goes before the sun is fully up though, the little voice in her head is not as loud. She even looks at the baby intently, in the light of the day, squeaking in her crib, and it makes Emma smile.  

— ღ — 


	7. Seven

— ღ   —

The harshness of the new day hits her as soon as she starts stirring awake.

She wakes up feeling groggy, not quite recognizing where she is, how or even why she’s there. It takes her more than a few seconds to make sense of her surroundings, but once she does, reality sets quickly and it feels incredibly like a hard slap to her face.

She’s still in Killian’s apartment, in his living room, on his couch. She must have fallen asleep without realizing earlier.

The last bit she remembers is him offering her breakfast. He said it was the least he could do after she spent most of the night cluster feeding his baby, so Emma grudgingly agreed. She remembers closing her eyes for a second and then —then, nothing.

Emma doesn’t spot Killian right away —or hears signs of the baby in the apartment right away either. She rubs at her eyes sleepily, and her first instinct is to get out of there. Maybe if she’s quick enough she can make her grand escape back to her apartment before he sees her—

“You’re awake.”

_Of course._

Emma sighs and her face falls for a second too long before she dares looking in his direction. Killian is looking at her brightly, the smile on his face _huge_ and it stings. It stings that she doesn’t feel nearly as happy as he looks —at all.

“You passed out love,” he tells her, as though Emma hadn’t already figured out that part. “I think you’ve been out for a little over an hour, if you give me a minute I’ll warm up some food for you?”

And there’s that blind enthusiasm and joyfulness of his again.

Emma sighs, but truly doesn’t have the heart to turn him down.

“Eggs and bagels, good?”

She can’t quite find her words to reply yet, so she settles with a nod.

“Aye, great, love.”

— ღ — 

He has to head to the hospital to have the baby checked out; some routine blood check to make sure this level or the other is lowering as it should.

Emma has to head to the hospital as well to pick up the infamous pump they are to give her through her insurance.

Earlier that morning, when Emma was feeding the baby yet again, they decided they might as well just carpool —Emma’s still not one hundred percent recovered to be using public transit, and Killian conveniently still has the car he rented when Emma went into labor.

It works out.

Seemingly, at least.

The three of them walk into the doctor’s offices together; Killian carrying the car seat with the teeny tiny little baby sleeping inside, while Emma walks slowly alongside them.

It feels weird, and not because it’s weird exactly, but because of how _normal_ it feels.

It somehow breaks Emma from the spell of the morning, and their entire night prior really.

She shakes her head when Killian asks her if she wishes he accompany her to retrieve the ‘ _pump device_ ’ as he called it.

He quickly notes her shaken demeanor and asks her if she’s all right as well. Emma quickly tells him she’s fine. She even tries for a smile as she tells him that she’ll meet him outside by the car when he’s done with the baby’s appointment.

It takes him a bit longer than she thought it would, but once he’s done and Daisy is safely strapped in in the cars, Emma breaks it to him without warning. “This isn’t working out, Killian.”

— ღ —  

His face falls but he isn’t shocked to hear the words coming from her. He can’t exactly argue with her about it either —he _knows_ , deep inside, that the last twelve hours have been exactly what she didn’t want this to be.

He doesn’t feel as if he’s taken advantage of her and her goodness, but he also knows he could have tried to stop it if he’d wanted it. The truth is, he hadn’t wanted to.

He likes having Emma around them so bloody much. He likes seeing her holding the baby and soothing her in her arms so easily and naturally.

It is not what Emma wants however, and as hard as it is for him to accept it, Killian knows he has to.

They talk, standing outside the car with Daisy’s door slightly open for a few minutes straightening things out. Neither of them has any fight in them. They just talk, calmly for once about how they are to proceed from now on.

They agree that now that she has the pump and Killian has at least three more brands of baby bottles to try on Daisy, things should go back to what they originally intended their relationship to be after the baby’s birth. Emma insists she truly doesn’t mind pumping for the baby and Killian is incredibly relieved and glad to hear as much.

She tells him she’s going back to work as soon as she feels up to it, but that she’s going to try pumping as much as she can if that is what Killian thinks is best for the baby. For now, he tells her that’s probably the best.

Emma agrees.

She tells him that even though they are having this conversation; it doesn’t mean she’s regretting anything she’s done these last few hours. She tells him Daisy is beautiful and she’s happy the baby is here and _with him._

Killian gets slightly teary eyed; he wants everything in the world for his daughter. He wants her to be healthy and happy and it kills him to have had a glimpse of what Emma in their lives would have been like.

It would have been perfect in spite of everything, and yet…

“You’re bloody amazing love, and I…I’ve—” He wishes he weren’t feeling so shocked up and could have told her how incredibly blown away by her strength he is.

Emma seems to understand the sentiment of all the words he can’t speak all the same anyway.

They hug —it’s mostly Killian wrapping her in his arms and not letting go for a few moments, but in his book, it still counts as a hug.

He mumbles one last _thank you_ into her hair before pulling back and that’s the end of it.

Emma doesn’t look at him anymore as she walks around the car and hops in the passenger side.

Killian checks on Daisy one last time —making sure she’s securely strapped in for the hundredth time, and covering her just a tad more in case the tiniest bit of wind reaches her in her safe cocoon.

Emma’s forehead is pressed against the window and her eyes are closed when he gets in the car. Killian doesn’t push her, he simply looks over at her, allows himself a moment or two to mourn everything that he now knows with certainty won’t be, and then just pushes onward. He starts the car and homeward bound they are at last.

It’s really a pity home has two different meanings in their lives for the time being…

— ღ   —

 

 

 


	8. Eight

— ღ   —

The months go on, and Daisy —Daisy _grows_ and she seems to be doing it at an alarming speed.

Every time Emma catches sight of her, she looks infinitely different from the last time she saw her. She’s gotten taller, although her chubby little legs remain. The waspy bits of blonde hair at the side of her head are finally changing into actual thin strands of tiny tiny blonde hair as far as Emma has been able to tell.

The weather is cooling now though, so Emma has gotten to see Daisy sporting the cutest little winter beanies as of late. Her favorite by far, a wooly pink one with two puffy little white pompoms on top.

Emma thinks Daisy favors her best —physically at least. She doesn’t exactly love the fact, but she can’t exactly deny it either. Killian told her once, outside their building, while juggling Daisy and her diaper bag, that her eyes tend to change between blue and green depending of the time of day or even what she’s wearing. He did say they stayed blue most of the time ‘ _unless, it’s like, daytime Swan, or, you know, early evenings and we are out —then of course they turn green and everybody on the planet has to point out what a beautiful lass she is…’_

It had taken a lot from Emma to carry on on her way to work that day instead of staying back and chatting with Killian about all those little things about Daisy she doesn’t know.

 

Emma returned to her job about two weeks after the baby was born. She didn’t feel completely back to herself, but it was the best decision she did for herself back then. It was good to have something to focus on that wasn’t the beautiful baby girl across the hallway.

She didn’t get to see Daisy very much those first weeks —Killian managed to take leave from his job for over two months after the baby was born and 24/7 he was with that girl. Emma never nursed Daisy again after that first night home —Killian found the magical brand of bottles his baby accepted and while to this day she’s still fuzzy about formula according to him, pumping for her has become part of Emma’s routine and she barely minds it ( _too much_ ).

It has become just something she does, and as far as she knows, Daisy has a nice stash of liquid gold (as Killian calls it) to keep her fed and happy for months (even if Emma were to stop pumping tomorrow). Which she truly doesn’t think she’s going to be doing. Not any time soon, not until she can’t anymore or Killian tells her Daisy doesn’t need it anymore.

For the time being, Emma still does that _one thing_ for her kid. It’s not much she knows, she doesn’t see or truly helps out with the baby at all, but she can pump and fill her fridge with feeds for Daisy and that, most days, makes Emma feel slightly less horrible about herself and her decision to give up the baby.

It’s strange, how most days it’s okay; she’s busy with work, she’s out and about, she doesn’t see them and everything seems _okay._

Some other times however, it almost becomes unbearable to just _think_ how _her_ baby is just across the hallway and she won’t go and hold her, love on her, be there for her like a mother should.

She thinks in another lifetime things would have been different —she and Killian would have been in an actual relationship, they would have loved each other and they would have welcomed that little girl together into their lives.

In another lifetime she would have been happy, she would have had what she always wanted growing up; a family. A family of her very own to be with and grow with.

Real life is nothing like that and some days she feels so damn lonely she can’t barely move.

She’d be okay, but then the next moment she won’t be, and instead she feels like she needs to just cry so she does sometimes.

It doesn’t happen often, but when it does, it almost knocks her off her feet every single time.

It’s a kind of pain she can’t explain or really, contain most times.

Some nights she thinks maybe she should just change it —change her life, claim that baby back.

The fear of the outcome is too great however, and she never dares.

She settles with seeing Daisy _sometimes_. Seeing her happy and healthy and with a father that’ll go to the end of the world for her.

Killian has surprised her more than Emma ever considered it possible. He’s so doting and loving, and he always seems so happy when she seems him with Daisy.

It isn’t always the easiest, or so he’s told her a few times, but given what Emma has seemed of them, she would never guess fatherhood is in any way hard for him.

She sees him juggling the baby, her car seat, her blankets and lovies, as well as her gigantic diaper bag as well as groceries and even the damn stroller sometimes, and every time he’s in a great disposition. Smiling at his kid, making her giggle while somehow getting everything done all the same.

She only sees his reality from the outside, but even so, Emma thinks he’s doing all right. She thinks, time and again, that she did the right thing agreeing to have Killian keep the baby. Daisy is so so so lucky to have him, and most of the times, knowing this is enough for Emma.

— ღ   —

Daisy is almost ten months old when she and Emma first run into each other directly in the hallway outside their apartments.

Emma’s getting home from work, she notices Killian’s door is slightly ajar, but she still walks past it and into her apartment. It was a long day at work and she’s happy to just be home and—

Before she’s even had the time to kick her shoes off, there’s a thud at her door. She grunts, out of instinct, and curses under her breath as she turns back around to the door.

She opens it, swiftly, completely expecting to see Killian (or some other neighbor) but what she sees (at first) is _nothing_.

Just an empty hallway.

Emma frowns, and just as she’s about to shut the door again (maybe she dreamed the knock after all) she _hears_ it…

It’s a small voice, the smallest voice ever perhaps, but it’s clear and it almost brings her to her knees when she looks down and sees _her_. _“Hi dere!”_ Her voice is the tiniest baby voice, but it’s undoubtedly hers, and it both shocks and amuses Emma at once.

She’s so little still to her, dressed in a lot of pink, and the cutest wooly hat as she looks up at Emma with huge blue eyes and a (mostly) gummy smile.

Emma just stares.

Daisy uses a hand to ineffectively try to wave —it’s sloppy, more like her little hand shaking clumsily in the air, but then she uses her little voice again, and it melts Emma completely. “Hi dere!”

Emma can’t move so she stares, but then also smiles. She doesn’t think as she kneels down on the floor in front of the baby. Daisy uses her knee to support herself and easily pulls herself up.

Emma’s stunned —Daisy’s…a tiny _actual_ little person —engaging in conversation with strangers and trying to stand her own. She looks at Emma with a silly expression on her face —eyes twinkling and smile drooly. Emma doesn’t say anything, she just watches the little girl, using her own hand to cover the baby’s tiny one on her knee.

Emma’s completely lost to the world aside from Daisy before her —that, until _his_ voice inevitable comes.

“Guess you’ve ran into the little miss, eh Swan?”

Emma looks up, surprised at once; her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open in complete shock.

Killian is quick to put her at ease with a dashing smile of his own and a low chuckle.

She still doesn’t speak though, but misses immediately the weight of Daisy’s hand on her knee as the baby notices Killian as well and turns around. She crawls as fast as Emma has ever seen a baby crawl toward him, and all the while, she babbles _“Da da da da da”_

Emma stays on her knees; she watches Daisy carefully, the precious little giggles escaping her as Killian picks her up and drops sloppy silly kisses all over her face.

Emma purses her lips, feeling as though her heart is both bursting within her and being ripped from her chest, all at the same time.

“It is pretty mind blowing when little people talk, isn’t it?”

Emma realizes he’s talking to her belatedly. She looks over at Killian and the baby as she stands.

“You’re all right?” Killian tilts his head —clearly a little thrown by how thrown _she_ seemingly is. “I know it’s been a while since you’ve seen her, love.”

Emma shakes her head, looks away from him without forming an answer.

Killian sighs, adjusting Daisy on his hip, and kissing her cheek for no reason.

Emma notices his feet starting to shift and she knows standing here awkwardly in silence with her is probably not his idea of fun. She shakes her head once more, shakes herself out of her stupor, and at last manages to meet his eyes. “She knocked on my door, I think,” Emma says, tilting her head, looking at Daisy.

The baby smiles at her, shyly this time as she tucks her head as close to Killian as he can.

He laughs and nods his head without thought. “That’s one of her newest things, I’m afraid,” he tells her, but Emma’s still confused by his answer.

He looks at Daisy, accusingly although still playfully, and then at Emma. “Every time we come home, if I have to put her down to look for my keys or whatever, she just rushes to your door —she’s _fast_. She usually uses it to stand and then just bangs at your door with both hands. What she’s hoping to happen, I’ve no clue. But I still find it pretty amusing —mostly because you’ve never been home when she’s done it…”

Emma looks at Daisy, then back at her door and can’t help but smile.

“I’m sorry she interrupted you love.”

“Oh,” Emma lets out, but then shakes her head. “That’s okay,” she says. “I was just getting home,” she adds, looking down at the work clothes she’s still wearing.

Killian’s smiling at her softly. Daisy is still watching her too, her arms around Killian’s neck as tight as she can manage, but her eyes seriously on Emma.

“What else does she say?”

“Hmmm,” Killian thinks, eyes shifting to Daisy. “A few words here and there, but mostly I think it’s like hi, Dad, wawa for water, dish for _this_ …her pronunciation still needs a wee bit of work…”

“Isn’t she pretty young to be talking?” Not that Emma knows anything about babies and how soon is too soon to be talking, but she feels like Daisy was still _inside_ her not _too_ long ago —it surely feels pretty soon for that same baby to be _talking_ already no?

Killian smiles knowingly but shrugs. “I’ve no clue,” he tells her. “She started doing it last month —one day I still couldn’t tell anything she was babbling, but then the next one I asked her to say ‘ _thank you Daddy’_ and boom—“

“Dangoo Daddy!”

Daisy’s timing is undebatable perfect and it has them both laughing in seconds.

Daisy wiggles and twists in his arms, so Killian sighs and just puts her down. Emma tilts her head, watching her crawl stupidly fast to the opposite end of the hallway and banging her little hands on Killian’s door when she reaches it.

It makes her smile, actually getting to see Daisy this big and so so happy.

Emma’s still smiling when she turns to look back over at Killian. “You’re doing great with her, huh?”

He shrugs. “Ah, we’re all right Swan,” he says. “How are you doing?” He asks her, while also keeping an eye behind him on Daisy.

Emma shrugs too; she knows he’s just trying to be polite, and perhaps he doesn’t even care anymore how she is, but she still replies. “It’s good; work’s busy so, you know how it is, the usual…”

“Yeah,” he nods, then looks at Daisy again. “Would you come over and say goodbye little miss, daddy has to get ready for work?”

_Right,_ Emma thinks, watching Daisy crawl in a rush back to them. Their hallways is not really _that_ long, but Emma still thinks Daisy’s rushed crawl may just set some kind of baby record in speediness.

She chuckles, stepping closer to Killian when he picks up his little girl. Without thinking too much, Emma reaches a hand toward the baby and holds her little fingers in hers. “It was so nice to see you Daisy.”

Daisy doesn’t reply, but gets shy again snuggling closer to Killian. He laughs, and teases the baby about it before smiling sunnily at Emma. “You seem well love, I’m glad we saw you.”

“Yeah,” Emma agrees, simply. She lets go of Daisy and smiles softly at the two of them. “See you guys around?”

“Aye,” he says and with just that, he’s turning around toward his place. Emma sees him kissing Daisy exaggeratedly, making her squirm and giggle in his arms.

It’s an odd feeling she feels then —like her heart is split for whatever reason.

That night Emma dreams of the tiniest baby voice calling ‘ _Hi deres’_ to her and when she wakes up, she’s smiling.

— ღ   —

 

 


	9. Nine

Two days later Emma runs into Killian and Daisy outside their apartments once more.

Killian doesn’t look at ease this time around though. His door is half-open, and when Emma sees him and their eyes meet, he barely half smiles as he holds his home phone against his ear. He’s holding Daisy on his other arm, and to say he looks frazzled, would be an understatement.

Daisy on the other hand, looks sleepy, and Emma thinks for a moment, that this is probably the first time she’s seen the kid like this since that first night home she spent with her and Killian.

Emma stares, long after Killian has turned from the door and has returned his sole attention to his phone call. Emma doesn’t overhear what he’s saying, but she still stays where she is. She continues to look at Daisy, she’s already in her pajamas, and her head is resting on Killian’s shoulders, her little eyelids fluttering open and then close sleepily every so often.

Emma doesn’t realize Killian has hung up the phone until he’s stepping out of his apartment and is meeting her on the hallway.

She startles a little, and for whatever reason that’s enough to get him to relax (slightly) and crack a smile.

“Having a bit of a day here, Swan, my apologies for the curt nod of hello.”

Emma smiles at him, because he’s impossibly polite sometimes. “You’re forgiven Kilian, don’t sweat it,” she assures him. “Are you okay though?”

“Aye,” he says.

Killian Jones is a _terrible_ liar, and Emma’s face lets him know as much. Again he goes for an easy smile, before breathing out, resigned. “I’ve had two long standing babysitters since Daisy was three months old —I also have two backups,” he tells her. “Do you care to ask me how many of them are unavailable to show up tonight?”

“It’s show night.”

“Aye,” he replies. “You don’t need to remind me love.” He sounds annoyed then, but quickly feels bad about it, Emma can tell. “I’m sorry, Emma, I’m just…stressed out a bit —I just have to make a few more phone calls, I’m sure I can arrange something…”

Emma sticks out the tip of her tongue, licking slowly her lip as he speaks —it’s probably stupid, she has no business here trying to step in. Especially not right now, after all this time, but…it’s only for tonight right? He’s in a pinch, and anyway, by the look of things, babysitting tonight will be no more than being in his apartment while Daisy sleeps —the baby is already pretty much passed out on his shoulder after all.

Without thinking —without _overthinking it,_ Emma just blurts it out before he can turn around and head back into his apartment. “Do you want me to stay with her?”

Killian immediately frowns, and looks at her shocked. “Pardon me love?”

Emma shrugs, smiles too, tries to take the gravity off the moment. If she pretends it isn’t a big deal, maybe it won’t be. “She’s going to be asleep, right? I can just stay in your living room until you’re back from your show tonight —it’s not a big deal Killian.”

“Emma.”

She shrugs again. “If you’re not comfortable with me watching her, that’s fine, I’m sure you can figure out something on your own. I just figured I’m already here and she’s going to sleep anyway so—“

“Emma, Emma, stop,” he cuts off her rambling.

She blushes a little, embarrassed all of a sudden, but his cheeks are turning a perfectly rosy tone as well, so she doesn’t feel as bad.

“It’s going to cost you an arm and a leg for those few hours of babysitting, but I mean, you _are_ in a pinch aren’t you?” She asks him, teasingly.

“Guess you’re going to make me break the piggy, huh?”

“Mmhmm,” Emma replies, smiling at him for whatever reason. She winks at him, tilts her head watching  Daisy softly, and then turns around, looking at him over her shoulder once more. “I need to get out of these clothes and shoes, but knock on my door if you want me to keep an eye on her, I don’t mind…”

And with that Emma’s gone as quickly as her feet take her back to the safety of her apartment. She closes her eyes immediately as she steps in, resting her back against the door she just closed and breaths in and out deeply.

She played it cool. She doesn’t want him to know how much helping _him_ actually means to her. She doesn’t want him to know that she ached to reach a hand to Daisy the entire time they stood in front of her just now. She doesn’t want to tell him that her heart felt like it was bursting when Daisy closed her eyes for good on his shoulder while they were talking.

How her little hand grasping tightly to his shirt nearly melted her heart.

How she can’t stop imagining what actually holding Daisy feels like —how her little body (so much bigger now than she was the few times Emma’s held her before) will fit in her arms now.

She wants to help.

She doesn’t want it to be a big deal —despite how much of an _enormous_ deal it actually feels for her to have offered to watch the kid.

Part of her hopes Killian doesn’t actually take her up on her offer.

A bigger part of her hopes against hope he does though.

She’s not stupid or delusional —she knows that baby isn’t _her_ baby. She’s not about to go claiming her as her own. Not, it’s not _that._

All the same, Emma can’t exactly deny the pull she felt towards her tonight.

It was so strong and natural somehow.

— ღ   —

Killian does knock on her door that night. Emma will never admit it to him, or anyone, how it relieved her.

He tells her at her door he has a baby camera in Daisy’s room. He tells her the monitor will work just fine from her apartment. He says she doesn’t have to be in his apartment if she doesn’t want to, she can just keep the monitor at her place if she prefers.

Emma doesn’t reply immediately —she takes the little monitor from him, presses the button on top that makes the screen light up, and sees quickly the little girl curled up in the corner of the crib. It makes her smile.

“Are you going to be okay knowing she’s home alone?” She asks him, knowing the answer already.

Killian doesn’t reply —he doesn’t need to reply, his face instantly shifts, his brows knit and his eyes narrow with physical concern.

Emma huffs a little laugh. “I don’t mind crashing on your couch if it’ll give you piece of mind.”

He breathes out at that. “Thank you Swan, I —I owe you.”

Emma shrugs. “Eh, you’re good,” she says, meeting his eye. “Break a leg tonight Jones.”

He chuckles. “Thanks, love…”

— ღ   —

It keeps happening after that night —Emma watching the kid some nights while Killian is at the theater.

It becomes a little bit like before, when she used to just crash in his apartment because he’s always had the better snacks and better stocked fridge. She used to ransack his pantries a lot before she wounded up pregnant. They used to be stupidly comfortable in each other’s apartments once upon a time.

Little by little, it seems they are returning to that —the slight difference being the almost one year that crashes the random pizza dinner they share on occasion.

It was Killian’s way of pay her back for watching Daisy that first time (Emma of course never  accepting any form of actual payment from him —despite how much he actually insisted she did) but when he texted her a picture of two boxes of her favorite pizza on his day off —just as she came back from work, exhausted and truly starving, Emma couldn’t exactly resist and tell him no.

So she didn’t. They shared pizza and chatted and maybe even laughed a bit, keeping the volume down because the baby was sleeping in her tiny nursery down the hall.

It felt like normal —like old days, only a little different and a little better because every time he wasn’t looking, Emma would steal a peek of the baby monitor and catch a glance of Daisy peacefully sleeping in her crib.

Since then, Emma has accepted —not _volunteered_ yet of course— to stay with Daisy while Killian works a few times.

Most of the times, Daisy is actually the one orchestrating the whole thing. She’s still not walking, almost, although not quite, but if anything, her crawling has gotten even faster than before. The whole banging on Emma’s door until she opens has become a game for her. Her favorite one, Killian claims.

It takes his door to be the slightest bit open, and the baby to notice, before she’s rushing across the hallway to Emma’s door. Emma’s come to even expect the banging on her door every so often now —it makes her laugh —especially when it comes accompanied by Daisy’s “ _Hullos’’_ and various unintelligible mumblings to get her to open the door.

Most times, with a fake (really, _really_ _really_ fake) roll of her eyes, Emma will just ask Killian if he needs her to crash in his apartment that night —it’s become a light thing they discuss some nights, and most times that’s okay.

Daisy is still always asleep by the time Emma goes to his apartment though —it works out for Emma that way and she’s glad Killian understands it without her having to explicitly tell him. It terrifies her still — _Daisy_ and everything she is and represents.

All the same, she’s thankful for the small moments she gets to spend with the baby —even if she’s sleeping every time. It’s a privilege truly, to see her completely peaceful in her sleep, clothed, fed, loved, _happy._ All that she has, is everything Emma would have ever hoped for that baby in her belly once upon a time.

She didn’t want to keep her, not because she didn’t love her, but because she never thought she would be able to give her _this —_ a home, a happy home and a family. That was why she was so adamant in giving her up, in finding her a _real_ family.

The fact that Killian managed to give her just that, makes all those months of heartache and uncertainty before she was born worth it. She’d do it all again if only this little girl gets to always be this happy and loved.

— ღ   —

It’s one random Tuesday night she happens to work late —Emma doesn’t really do that a lot anymore, she used to, once upon a time when she was a rookie and just barely scraping by. Now it’s different though, and the late nights and grueling hours are usually reserved for others.

Tonight was an exception however, and Emma didn’t make it home until well after midnight. She’s so focused on how much her feet hurt that she almost doesn’t hear the wails. It takes her aback, the heartbreaking noise piercing the otherwise overly quiet night.

There’s no doubt to her the cries are coming from Killian’s apartment, and the source of said cries is _Daisy_.

It tugs at Emma’s heart immediately —the sound that is, and her hand goes up to her chest and she struggles with herself as to what to do. It isn’t her business she tells herself, but then again, it really is such an odd occurrence that she can’t stop herself from growing more and more concerned by the second.

Of all times Emma’s babysat Daisy as she sleeps, the baby has not once actually woken up crying. She’s stirred in her sleep some, Emma having a small heart attack every single time —petrified the baby was going to wake up and she was going to have to deal with her awake in the middle of the night.

Daisy never did though. She’d move around in her sleep a lot, but she was also a baby champ putting herself right back to peaceful sleep.

It is just _not_ like her to be wailing in the middle of the night. Something has to be wrong, and Emma’s heart aches to do something. She’s not sure her help would be appreciated at all but—

All the same she just can’t move and carry on with her night as if nothing were happening. She feels frozen in place outside his apartment, unable to head home despite how very damn exhausted she is.

She knocks on his door eventually —she can’t physically make herself not to, and suddenly she feels like she’s back to that night so many moons ago right after Daisy was born. Same as back then, Emma has very little clue what she’s doing.

This time it feels the same —although back then she was equally parts concerned about her own pain as well as Daisy’s —this time she can only think about Daisy’s.

Nothing quite happens and Emma knows it isn’t Killian not wanting to open (she’s strongly hoping so anyway) but more like Daisy’s cries are too loud for him to have heard her knock. She tries a couple more times to no answer still. She’s not thinking when she rummages her purse for that extra set of keys she’s never too far from.

She hasn’t used his keys in months —literally months and months, and yet this time she doesn’t even think about it as she gets them out and unlocks his apartment’s door, seeing herself inside.

The living room is dark; Emma’s conscious enough to close the door after her, and set down her things before she’s quietly moving in the direction of the nursery.

She hears Daisy crying —the sound louder and louder the closer she gets. They aren’t in the nursery though she notes, but in Killian’s room. She stands just by the doorframe for all of two beats, and watches on. He’s there; holding onto Daisy as the little girl brokenly cries and cries over his shoulder. He’s pacing around slowly with her, his broad hand covering most of her little back as he gives her gentle strokes every so often.

Emma feels her heart in her throat as she finally steps in the bedroom.

Killian doesn’t startle when he sees her —she doesn’t even make a noise, he suddenly just turns, and without warning they are staring into each other’s eyes. There’s only the light of his bedside lamp illuminating the room, and it isn’t enough to light up the entire room, but it _is_ enough to allow Emma a proper look of his eyes. Of the fear there.

“Oh Killian,” she finds herself saying, compassion washing over her in seconds. She purses her lips as he holds onto Daisy just a little bit tighter.

“It’s just a fever,” he tells her, downplaying the scenario for her service and definitely not his. “Her medicine should kick in soon,” he adds, turning to Daisy, whispering sweet little nothings in her ear hoping to soothe her a bit. It doesn’t work of course, and instead she continues to wail.

Emma steps in a little more —she moves so that her hand is on top of his on Daisy’s back and she looks at him softly. “How can I help you?”

He protective tightens his hold on Daisy and shakes his head. She knows what he’s thinking, how he simply cannot let go of his daughter right now. Not when she’s obviously so sick and miserable and— “She’s okay, Killian. Right?” Emma asks him, her voice soothing. Amidst the cries of the baby, he manages a small nod in reply. Emma nods as well, her fingers softly moving over his. “Your baby is okay — _you_ are doing everything you can for her,” she whispers. “It’s just a little fever huh?”

Again, he nods although his disposition is still uneasy. “Can you —can you hold her for me for a moment? I can’t, I don’t want to put her down,” he stammers. “I need to find the thermometer, it’s in her room, I can’t —I tried looking before but she was crying so hard–”

“It’s okay,” Emma assures him. “I can hold her for a bit.”

Killian nods at that, relieved beyond measure. “Aye.”

He takes a moment before passing his sick baby over to Emma —he holds her closer to him for a beat, kissing her little head and whispering something Emma doesn’t catch right in her ear. Emma can see in his face how much he’s praying she doesn’t start crying harder the second she isn’t in his arms anymore as he starts the transfer.

Daisy effectively whimpers and pouts as he lets go of her but she doesn’t completely freak out which makes her glad. “Your daddy is right there, Daisy…it’s okay, you’re safe,” Emma coos, unprompted and shocking not just Killian but herself by the loving tone she uses with the baby.

Daisy’s eyes shift to her, and her stare is so strong —her eyes huge and blue and sad with tears she hasn’t shed yet. It breaks Emma’s heart at the same time as it heals it. She’s really so beautiful and perfect, and for a second there she remembers this little girl used to be inside her.

She remembers this little girl is the same little blob Emma saw on that first ultrasound once upon a time. The same scan she still keeps in her nightstand and refuses to look at almost every day.

She remembers this little girl is the same baby she grew in her belly for nine months and now she’s here —sad and slightly under the weather of course, but otherwise completely perfect and an absolute miracle.

Without warning Daisy shifts in her arms, Emma thinks she’s squirming, needing to get away from her and find her father, but instead —

Instead, the baby buries herself in her arms. She cuddles closer to her, her little face buried in her chest in seconds, both her tiny little hands clinging to her hair as if Emma were a lifeline.

Emma thinks she hears Killian saying something, but she’s too deep in this moment to make out whatever he’s saying.

She continues to stare at Daisy —she sees the top of her little head now —her warm (very warm) forehead pressed against her chest as she snuggles her way into her heart with absolutely no warning.

Emma’s arms tighten around her in a very instinctive way she wasn’t aware she possessed.

She swallows hard at the lump that forms in her throat —her eyes stay down on the baby, her head shifting slightly to the side allowing Emma to see her face a bit better.

Her eyelids are fluttering slowly, fighting sleep, tiredness, and whatever disease is in her system.

Emma breathes —she feels like she’s been holding her breath forever so she soaks in the relief of breathing deeply and freely knowing, at least for now, Daisy is settled.

She notices Killian after a moment —he’s standing to her right, Emma shifts her eyes and sees the small bottle of baby medicine he’s holding as well as the baby thermometer.

Emma takes a moment before looking up at him.

He’s looking back at her softly —not saying a word, but also not breaking eye contact.

It’s not until he frees one of his hands and is extending it in the direction of her cheek, that Emma realizes she’s been crying. Or maybe not crying, but tears are in anyway falling to her cheeks.

She sniffles, smiling embarrassedly as she shifts her eyes from his.

-/

Killian doesn’t say anything, he wipes at some of the tears that have fallen, and lowly allows himself to let out a small sigh.

He was drowning before but now Emma is here, and maybe he’s not anymore.

— ღ   —


	10. Ten

— ღ   —

The thing about pumping for Daisy is, Emma _pumps for Daisy_ —she _has_ to pump. She does it two or three times every day; in the morning, at work once sometimes, and then once in the evening. Sometimes she forgets about the last pumping session of the day (too exhausted to, passed out on the couch) but then she’ll always still wake up with stupidly annoying pain sometime in the middle of the night.

It’s not so much a choice whether she pumps or not. She pretty much has to unless she wants to be in stupid amounts of pain and discomfort.

She fell asleep. They all did she thinks —they are in Killian’s bed. Emma’s slightly propped up with Daisy still in her arms, while Killian is sprawled sideways on the bed by her feet.

The pain in her chest woke her up and Emma thinks she’s never hated it more than right then.

Daisy is still peacefully sleeping as far as she can tell —breathing steadily and evenly against her chest.

Emma looks down at her, smiles despite everything because even though she can still see her flushed cheeks and knows her fever is still lingering, she’s peaceful.

She fights it, tries to go back to sleep, shifts as little as she can trying not to wake up Daisy or Killian. They surrendered to the bed after Killian made sure Daisy’s temperature was at least holding and she was settled.

Emma asked him at some point if he wanted her to give him the baby back now —given how clingy to her he was when she got there, she wouldn’t have found it strange if he needed to hold his daughter back as soon as he could.

He shook his head however —looking at Daisy and saying, “ _She seems perfectly content with you, love_ ,” he said and then quickly added. “ _Do **you** want me to take her from you?”_

But Emma couldn’t say yes to that. She’s cherishing every small second with this baby in her arms.

She didn’t want to give it up then, she doesn’t want to give it up now…but—

“What is it?”

She sighs, hating he’s awake as much as she hates the answer she has to give him. “Pain,” she says, and looks down at her breast area to clue him in.

It takes him a moment, but of course he understands after a moment. “Oh,” he says. “ _Right_.”

“Yeah,” Emma replies. “I don’t want to put her down, but—”

“You could nurse her,” he says without thinking, and the look in his face says he’s just as shocked he said that as Emma is to hear it.

Killian sits up then quickly, and Emma knows he’s thinking frantically how to take it back. In the end, he says. “I mean, no, you don’t have to do that, I just —if you think you need to, or want to, I have to wake her up soon enough to give her her medicine again, so —she may need to, I—I don’t know what I’m saying Emma,” he rambles, and in spite of everything, it makes her smile at him.

She stopped listening after he asked her if she wanted to —she’s not sure if she wants to try _that —_ she hasn’t done it since the baby was very much a newborn, and she’s not even sure if she _can_. At the same time, she knows she does _need_ to relieve some of the pain, so…

“I think I understood what you meant.”

“Oh, good.” Killian sighs. “You’re not offended or anything?”

“Nah, no I’m not,” she whispers.

“Good,” he repeats, leaning back on the bed again.

“I can step out if–”

“Stop it,” she tells him, and he looks over at her with slight wide eyes. She tries for a smile. “This is your bedroom.”

He makes a face and she knows he’s about to argue with her, so she adds quickly, “I trust you you aren’t going to goggle my naked breasts while I fucking breastfeed your daughter, right?”

“Jesus, Emma.”

She laughs softly.

“Don’t bloody curse —she can probably still hear you.”

Emma chuckles to herself, but nods.

— ღ   —

In the end, Daisy wakes up before Emma has made up her mind about whether she wants to nurse her or not. She thinks ultimately the decision will be Daisy’s –she’ll either take to her or not.

Killian takes her temperature, and Emma is not surprised when he says it’s gone up a little again. He fixes the medicine while Emma holds onto an again whimpering Daisy; she fights the medicine, and even fights Killian when he tries to pick her up from Emma’s hold.

It’s a strange thing, and Emma can tell she’s not the only one shocked by the occurrence.

Daisy’s not exactly settled in her arms either though and anxiety and frustration start building up in Emma before she can stop it.

Killian tells her to relax, cooing to Daisy to calm down and relax as well.

Emma makes her decision then.

She holds onto the baby properly, scoots her butt back until her back is resting against the headboard, and cradles Daisy protectively. Killian just sits back, watches her face as Emma positions the baby just so. She’s surprised how easily Daisy seems to know what to do. She snuggles closer to Emma —one of her hands tangled up in her hair tight, refusing to let go as she finds her breast and surprisingly, starts nursing as though she’s been doing it her whole life.

Killian’s quiet, and Emma knows he’s not staring, and that makes her glad. He stands up to leave at some point, but she stops him. “Is okay, please,” she tells him. “Please just stay.”

So he does, and she continues to nurse the baby. It hurts a little, not the same way pumping bothers her at times, but definitely a strange sort of discomfort at first.

It lessens as Daisy continues to nurse steadily though —her little eyes closing within minutes and before Emma can process it; she once again has a sleeping baby in her arms.

It’s humbling; being able to settle and soothe this little baby she’s failed to mother all these months.

She wonders what Killian is feeling —what he’s thinking and whether he’s bothered by this at all or not.

She doesn’t think he is, mainly by the stupid grin he offered her when she told him the baby was back asleep.

Still —he _is_ the baby’s father. Emma isn’t her mother for all intent and purposes. She’s their neighbor —the neighbor across the hallway that just so happened to house that baby for a few months inside herself once upon a time.

She isn’t this baby’s mom yet—

Yet here she is and she doesn’t wish she were anywhere else.

— ღ   —

Day breaks with the three of them still in Killian’s bed. Emma doesn’t think she had that much sleep throughout the night but Daisy did, she thinks, so she feels oddly relaxed and pleased somehow.

Daisy is still attached to her, her eyes softly closed, nursing on and off as she falls in and out of sleep. Her fever hasn’t spiked in a while, even though Killian hasn’t given her meds in a while.

Killian is already awake when Emma’s eyes flutter open that morning. She’s on her side, cradling Daisy while he watches them from the end of the bed.

He breathes out deeply, speaking eventually. “I’ve always wished she’d have you.”

Is not exactly the easiest topic for her to talk about, but for whatever reason Emma doesn’t feel as though she _can’t_ talk about it as she normally would feel. “I’m not quite her mother,” she admits sadly, anyway.

Killian nods. “Oh, I know this Swan —even so; you’ve done what’s best for Daisy from the start. You may not have been present all the time, but you’ve done extremely right by this baby and for that I will forever thank you.”

Emma’s at a loss as to what to say back —she meets Killian’s eyes but beyond that, she doesn’t know what to do or say back.

He doesn’t seem to mind, smiling at her as he carries on. “Her middle name is Swan, you know?”

“What?”

“Aye,” he shrugs. “When she was born —I didn’t have a clue what the hell was going to happen with us. I didn’t know if you were going to move away or what. I didn’t know if you’d ever want to even see her at all, so I, I don’t know —I wanted her to have something that was yours with her forever, and I thought, heck, why the bloody hell not. And I love it. She’s a beautiful lass; she looks more and more like you every day. I love that.”

Emma can’t help her heart beating faster at his words —at his goodness, at his _love._ She smiles at him, a soft thing on her lips. “Did you think it was going to be like this?”

“Oh, hell no.” Killian replies quickly and Emma knows he understands completely what she meant. “I knew I wanted her the minute you told me you were pregnant —but God, I had no clue how bloody much I would love her,” he admits. “I had no idea how much it would pain me to see her sad and unsettled. How much of me I’d want to give her. How frustrating it would be knowing I can’t give her _everything_ you know?”

Emma nods, her eyes feeling stingy with tears for some reason. “You’re doing amazing, Killian. I never —I never imagined any of this. I didn’t think it was possible when I found out about her.”

Again, he seems to know exactly what she’s talking about. His face softens and he breathes in and out deeply for a moment, his eyes shifting up to the ceiling. “If you ever want to be part of her life Swan —I’d want that for Daisy.”

Emma wants to believe he means that, but the way he can’t quite meet her eyes says a lot to her. “ _But?_ ” She asks. “There’s a _but_ , isn’t it?”

Killian gives himself a moment before replying. He turns his face to her after a beat. “I’d want you to be _sure_ if you’re ready for this or not. I want to give Daisy _everything_ , I want her to have it all, I want her to have you but not if you’re not ready love…If you _really_ want this, then…then that has to be it, running away can’t happen, you can’t ever leave, and I don’t mean—”

“I know what you mean.” And she does, he doesn’t mean leave _him,_ he means–

“This is about _Daisy_ ,” he tells her anyway. “I’d want you to be her mom, but I won’t have you in and out of my daughter’s life —she deserves so much more than that.”

Emma just looks at him —he’s right. “Yah…” She says —she understands. She doesn’t know if that’s something she’s capable of, however. She knows she feels a tug to Daisy —a bond, and maybe even love toward her. She knows moments like right now, being here, holding her and soothing her —Emma knows moments like this are moments she wouldn’t want to give away for anything.

Still, being in her life —for good as Killian says, is a big deal. It’s the biggest deal. Emma knows she wants it, but doesn’t know if she can realistically do it. She doesn’t know if she can truly be a mother —be the mother Daisy _deserves_.

“She’s always going to know about you, love,” Killian says then, breaking Emma from her never-ending thoughts.

“Hm?”

“Daisy,” Killian repeats. “She’s always going to know about her mother —about the woman who gave her so so much and always has her best interest in mind. The beautiful lass who grew her in her belly and gracefully allowed me to raise her. She’s always going to know her mother loves her and always wanted to give her her best chance…”

Emma finds herself properly tearing up at his words. She shakes her head looking down. Looking at Daisy, smiling at her despite the tears falling from her eyes.

“Thank you, Killian…”

— ღ   —


	11. Eleven

— ღ   —

Three days later Daisy is good as new. Whatever she had, is completely gone from her system and Emma’s never been gladder to see her silly grin than she is when she sees her three days later.

Sadly, however, whatever bug Daisy had, _did_ make its way to Emma and while the baby girl bounced back to herself like nothing was ever wrong, Emma was bounded to her bed for almost a week following that night with the baby and Killian.

Killian felt guilty, overly so. Bringing her soup he’d made and dropping off cold medicine and cough drops for her sore throat.

Emma dismissed his concern more often than not; she acted annoyed and sent him on his way every time he came to see her. Deep down she has to admit though, it’s nice to know that he still cares.

He shouldn’t. Especially not after everything they’ve been through these last couple of years, how terrible nasty and rude she’s been at times, and yet…

Yet he was here for her. Kind of like he would have before Daisy, when they were friends and showed up for each other when needed.

Who knows and maybe there’s still hope for them yet.

— ღ   —

It’s Monday, he’s off from work, and of course, Killian’s in her apartment first thing to check on her. Emma’s definitely on the mend, feeling exponentially better and Killian is quick to point out she _looks_ better when he sees her.

Emma gives him a fake glare and shakes her head. She’s tidying up her kitchen, about to turn to him to tell him she’s going back to work tomorrow and he can stop worrying, when he beats her to it and speaks first. “Would you like to go on a walk with me and Daisy?”

Emma stares at him —she looks over at him with wide questioning eyes that don’t understand what the hell is going on.

Killian smiles softly, shrugging a shoulder. “I want to take her to the park, it’s not too cold, and she’s been cupped up in the apartment enough.” He explains; his voice soft and maybe even a little coy. “Perhaps you fancy joining us love?”

And there is no way, absolutely no way Emma can physically decline that offer. “Sure.”

— ღ   —

They take the train into the city, Daisy falling asleep in Killian’s arms the second he picks her up from the stroller and sits with her on the train.

Emma sits by them in comfortable silence the whole time, smiling at him like a stupid love-struck teenager almost every time their eyes meet over Daisy’s little head.

She doesn’t wake up until they are already walking on their way to the park, Killian holding her the whole time until she was awake enough (and happy enough) to ride in her stroller as they continued their walk.

They made silly small talk at first, _how excited she is to finally leave the house again, how not excited she is to go back to work, how much of an asshole his boss still is, how much of an asshole **her** boss still is…_

It’s an odd thing, walking with them. It’s a nice kind of odd though.

She likes noticing the way his nose and ears turn red from the cool air. She likes watching him chuckle and smile shyly after he points out how stupidly bundled up both she and Daisy are despite how sunny it is, and how truly _not_ cold it is.

She teases him back pointing out the fact that it _is_ cold and that he’s barely wearing a black leather jacket. It’s strange the whole thing, but it’s also really nice.

It’s almost an hour into their walk until Emma gathers the nerve to ask him questions about Daisy.

Emma hasn’t been able to stop smiling every time she catches sight of Daisy, happily humming to herself in the stroller. It amazes her how happy and cheery she seems to always be. It kind of makes her wonder… “Is she always this well behaved?” Emma just _had_ to ask him, she couldn’t help herself anymore.

Killian’s flashes her a grin, clearly proud of his little girl. “She is, isn’t she?” He asks back and Emma simply chuckles and nods.

She looks at him as they carry on with their walk, waiting for him to elaborate. “Would you believe me love if I told you she used to hate the stroller?”

Emma’s eyes go wide at that one. Killian smiles, and continues. “She did —she hated it very much once upon a time. She used to only last a few minutes before she was a wailing mess. I'm extremely pleased she's over that now —I'll have you know Swan, it wasn't pleasant —for either one of us.”

“How did you fix her?”

Killian pulls a face at that question. “I didn't… _fix her,”_ he says. “She didn't need fixing, but I guess I got her used to it just by continuing our walks even if she seemed to detest them,” he explains. “I'd let her cry a little more every day before picking her up and maybe a couple of months ago, we went walking one day and she was great the _entire_ time. We celebrated that evening with her first ice cream cone.”

Emma smiles at the story —she wonders quickly how many of these stories Killian must have. After all, Daisy is just about one these days, so that translates to almost an entire year of stories and experiences.

It saddens her suddenly to think in all she’s missed.

“She’s not really a fussy baby, she’s pretty happy most of the time, but like anyone I’d wager, she has her moments…”

Emma smiles despite herself and her self-pity thoughts. He sounds so grown up, like such a father and it makes her _proud_ of him. “What else does she give you grief with?”

He smirks, slowing his walk and turning to her fully, a challenge in his eyes.

Emma tries not to laugh, her eyes wrinkling playfully. “I was just asking, you know?”

“Mmhmm,” he hums, resuming his pace. He’s quiet for a beat there, and Emma almost thinks he’s really not going to reply, but then he turns to her once more and just _smiles_ at her. There’s not a hint of a smirk there, he just looks at her softly, making peace and warmth wash over her all of a sudden.

“I do mean it every time I say she’s a great baby Swan.”

Emma nods. “I never doubted that —she’s, you know, she—“ She trails off, looking down at the ground for a moment. “She’s pretty incredible, I know Killian…”

“Aye,” Killian agrees easily. “She —she’s picky about a few things here and there, about her routine and even food a little.” He tells her. “She also doesn’t exactly love it when any of her babysitters has to put her to bed at night…”

“What?”

“Aye,” Killian replies with a smile. “She likes most of her babysitters all right okay? But if it's bed time, she truly does hate them all with a passion. Ever wonder why my kid has such a stupidly early bed time, Swan? She just won't go to sleep easily for either of the babysitters,” he confesses. “I always try to put her down first before rushing to work —it’s not ideal, but at least she falls asleep easily for me and stays asleep all night…”

Emma nods, remembering that _one_ night the baby was unable to sleep through the night, too poorly to settle herself and sleep properly. Something Killian said makes Emma curious about something else though. “What time does she wake up in the morning?”

Killian turns to her, his eyes twinkling. “Half five most mornings?”

Emma's eyes go a little _too_ wide at that, it makes Killian laugh. “It's actually not too bad Swan,” he assures her. “She usually just wakes up for a bottle and to get in my bed, which I don't mind. She usually falls right back to sleep with me until eight or so every morning…”

That certainly explains why his apartment is usually so quiet in the mornings when she heads out to work herself. “You’ve got yourself one high maintenance little girl then, huh?”

Killian shakes his head, indulgently. “See what she's saying about you little love?” He asks, looking for Daisy. “Calling you high maintenance even when you are behaving so perfectly today…”

They laugh and Daisy seems to take their cue to laugh, and does it as well.

“She's pretty clever; I can give her that.”

“Ah yeah, that she is…” he says, his eyes softly on Daisy as she laughs playfully looking up at them.

Emma's starting to love every time she laughs.

“She's wonderful still you know,” Killian adds quietly then just because. He keeps his eyes focused on Daisy. “She's the cuddliest baby and I know she's my kid, but almost everybody that knows her agrees with me that she's bloody wonderful _and funny_. And you know what, even if she weren’t for real, I'm her dad so I still say she's perfectly funny, aye?”

“Right, okay,” Emma indulges him, nodding dutifully.

Killian flashes her a happy grin before shifting his eyes ahead and continuing to push the stroller.

They stop near the boat pond when Killian insists they _must_ make a stop. He assures her Daisy loves to just sit and look out at the water —at all the little model sailboats and the children there. He swears it calms her and _soothes her_.

Emma just looks at him — skepticism in her eyes. Killian laughs. “Don’t believe me Swan?” He asks her back. “I’ll have you know, Daisy here, she’s a tiny creature of habit.”

Now Emma looks at him with even more disbelief. “You mean _you are_ a creature of habit?”

 _Busted_.

He smiles, guiltily and nods his head. “Yeah well, _I_ enjoy the water all right? It just…it helps me think easier…calms me down…”

“Yeah,” Emma breathes deeply, allowing her eyes to look over at the water as well. “Thank you, Killian, you know….”

“Thank you for what?”

Emma shrugs slightly. “Just for today,” she says. “Today’s been nice…”

He takes a beat to reply, but then just agrees, “Aye, it has…”

— ღ   —

 

 

 

 


	12. Twelve

— ღ   —

It is not much a decision but an all-encompassing feeling she gets one day. She _wants_ to be in her daughter’s life and that’s the end of it. She wants to know Daisy and she wants to have whatever small part in her life Killian allows her to have.

Emma debates with herself her feelings for days following their walk in Central Park. It’s a painful thing, almost maddening back and forth, but still she can’t stop thinking about it. Not when she’s awake, and especially not when she’s trying to sleep —that little girl plaguing her every dream every night.

It’s an afternoon after work a few days later that she knows — _without a doubt_ — exactly what she needs.

_Daisy._

She wants Daisy. She _needs_ her.

It starts with Killian literally shouting for her from outside her apartment. At first she startles at Killian’s shouts —it’s hard to make out if it’s a call of distress or joy, but then, as soon as she steps out, nothing else really matters.

She sees _Daisy —_ across the hallway, her smile huge and eyes wrinkling at the corners. Killian is on his knees behind her, his hands on her tiny waist keeping her in place.

He barely offers Emma a small, yet clearly excited look before whispering something into Daisy’s ear.

Emma has no time to speak, to ask him what is going on, before he simply lets go of Daisy and that is _it._

Without more of a warning, Daisy lets out perfect squeals as she takes off without Killian’s help. Her steps are wobbly, Emma feels her heart in her throat, half-afraid to see Daisy fall, but mostly just joyous at seeing that little girl taking so many little steps.

Instinctively, Emma moves forward; a magnet-like pull toward that happy baby girl. “That’s a good girl Daisy,” she finds herself cooing, dropping to her knees a few steps from Daisy, her arms reaching for her.

Daisy’s giggles are contagious, she’s clearly so damn proud of herself, and it shocks Emma to realize how very proud of her she feels as well. “Come on babe,” she encourages, bringing yet more giggles from Daisy.

Emma giggles too, and from somewhere behind Daisy she can hear Killian laughing as well. It truly is a sight to behold; a tiny little person, a _baby, walking_ for the first time.

It almost feels like magic.

_Pure_ magic.

— ღ   —

In the end, Daisy does trip and fall on her bum just as she was reaching Emma. Emma’s mouth hangs open, a breath withheld in anticipation to Daisy’s reaction.

Daisy doesn’t cry. The opposite actually, yet more giggles escape her bringing yet more laughter from both Killian and Emma as well.

“You did _so_ good, Daisy,” Emma gushes, scooting closer to Daisy and helping her stand.

Daisy beams at her, squishing her face goofily before launching forward and burying her little face in Emma’s hair.

Emma melts on her spot, her arms reaching around Daisy, hugging her close. She sees Killian out of the corner of her eye hovering, she tilts her head, meeting his eyes, _smiling_ — both at Daisy’s milestone and at the fact that she’s here, _with them._

It settles in her heart right then, right then with Daisy in her arms, giggling into her hair —Emma _loves her_ and a life when she doesn’t get to witness this little girl grow up, is not something she’s interested in.

Not anymore.

She _wants this._

— ღ   —

They spend the rest of the evening together. They go to his apartment, get Daisy to walk back and forth between the two of them on the floor for almost an entire hour. Daisy in the end collapses in Emma’s lap, snuggling her lovey and after that overly sleepy display of affection, they decide to call it a night.

At least Daisy’s night.

Emma stays in Daisy’s room through most of Killian’s bedtime routine for her, which is another first in and of itself. It warms her heart, melts _her_ really, seeing his care and love for Daisy from the best seat in the house.

Emma helps distracting Daisy in the changing table while Killian changes her nappy and dresses her in her jammies. She sits on the floor with them as he reads the baby all of five different bedtime storybooks and even gets to read Daisy one herself as Killian goes to the kitchen to prep her bedtime bottle.

She cuddles Daisy in her lap for a few minutes in the rocking chair, singing softly _‘Baa baa black sheep’_ in her ear, making her smile sleepily every single time.

She passes her over to Killian when Daisy’s eyelids grow so heavy they are mostly already shut. Killian’s smile is warm and happy as he takes the baby from her. He nods at Emma, doesn’t say a word, yet she hears everything he’s saying nonetheless.

“Night night sweet girl,” Emma whispers in the end, smoothing Daisy’s hair back and kissing her temple.

She turns the lamp off and quietly leaves the room soon after that.

She doesn’t even consider going to her apartment this time —she’s done it before, just sneak out of here without saying goodbye, just wanting to get away.

She feels none of that tonight.

Tonight she’s….well; she guesses that tonight she’s mostly just _happy._

She’s happy to be here. She’s happy she spent time with Daisy like this. She’s happy because _Daisy_ is happy and healthy, and oh, simply so perfect.

— ღ   —

When Killian steps out of Daisy’s nursery, he finds Emma in his couch; he’s only mildly surprised she’s here, yet completely glad she is.

She’s resting her head back against the couch, her eyes closed and as he moves closer, he sees the perfect way her lips are tugged upwards.

She’s _happy_.

“Wee princess was out like a light.”

Emma’s eyes snap open at his words; she twists her head back to look at him. “Holy shit, you scared me,” she hisses, shaking her head at him.

“Sorry,” Killian says, scratching at the back of his head shyly as he sits down beside her on the couch. “Didn’t mean to love.” He says even though he sees the way she’s still somewhat smiling, so he doesn’t actually feel _that_ sorry.

“S’right…” Emma mumbles in reply anyway. She breathes in deeply, shifting her eyes from his and he knows she’s still working in just _processing_ today.

Killian rests his head back as well, deciding he needs to do much of the same.

It’s a while before either can properly form words, they are breathing easy though, and there is some peace about them that wasn’t there before.

“You know…”

“Um?”

Killian shifts his head sideways, meets her eyes. “I trust you Emma,” he says then out of nowhere. He’s decided maybe it’s all right if he doesn’t overthink this one.

Emma frowns, but she’s listening. He shrugs. “I trust you with Daisy and I know it hasn’t been easy, this last year and even before when you were pregnant, but…everything’s a little better when you’re here. Tonight…”

Emma’s lips purses as he trails off —for a second he worries he’s fucked up, but then she says, “Tonight was nice.” And Kilian thinks maybe she knows what he’s trying to say and maybe, just maybe, she’s _ready_.

“Aye,” he agrees eventually, letting out a long breath. “Do you want this, Emma? Daisy? Spending time with her?” Is a question he knows the answer to; he _saw_ with his very own eyes the answer to those questions today every time Emma picked up Daisy, every time she even _looked_ at her.

Still, he needs to hear her saying it —if only because his daughter deserves it.

— ღ   —

Emma in the end just nods —tears pool at her eyes and she can barely take the way he’s looking at her. There’s that softness and gentleness he has about him sometimes that completely disarms her. ~~~~

She forces herself to breathe deeply, keep herself from letting the tears fall, but it all goes to hell when his hand reaches up to cup her chin. “That’s what I thought…” He whispers.

Emma’s heart almost aches, but she’s not sad —the opposite really. “You’re too good, you know?” She tells him even though she knows he’s as good —as _bad_ — as she is at taking compliments. She pushes on anyway. “I think Daisy is very lucky to have you.”

Killian shakes his head, hand dropping from her face, eyes dropping from hers as well.

It makes Emma smile, that coyness of his she so very rarely gets to see.

“My brother and his wife keep her for me Saturday nights,” he tells her then. The casualness in his tone only _slightly_ forced. “I take her into work with me in the morning; they pick her up and keep her until I’m done with work Sunday at midday. Is the only night I usually don’t spend with her —Saturdays are two day shows and I work them both so…they help me with her, and it usually works…”

It explains why his apartment is always so quiet during the weekends. Emma never understood that until now.

“I guess, if you want to love, you could spend a few hours with Daisy on Saturday —I know is your time off as well, so if you don’t want to is okay, I just…I don’t know, it occurred to me, maybe, if you wanted—“

“Killian,” she stops his rambling. “Would you really be okay with me doing that?”

“Aye, love, of course,” he replies. “Like I said, I trust you…I trust you with her.” He promises. “I may still have to have my brother help you put the little princess down. Daisy’s… _picky_ about that, as you know, but…if you want to Emma, I’d…I’d love her to spend time with you…”

She’s quiet for a little while —imagining how it would go. Would Daisy want that? Would Daisy accept her and be happy to spend time with her?

What would she do with that little girl for hours at the time? On her own. It freaks her out; she can’t deny that, but all the same… “I think I’d like that Killian,” she finds herself saying in the end. “I think I’d like that very much actually…”

Killian’s grin right then is as big as Emma has ever seen it. “Aye love,” he says cheerily. “We’ve got a deal then —I’m sure Daisy is going to love it…”

Emma’s smile turns coy at that —his faith in her is something out of this world, she thinks. “Thank you…”

“Nothing to thank me for, love,” he assures her, brushing a strand of wavy blonde hair behind her ear. He grins at her then some more, meeting her eyes. “I want this —I’ve _always_ wanted this, you in her life, _our_ lives…I know is probably still scary but—“

“I won’t let you down,” Emma chimes in, cutting him off. Killian doesn’t look like he minded though; he offers her a little nod —a little encouraging thing that makes her stomach flutter with nervous butterflies. “I won’t let _Daisy_ down,” Emma adds in any case, her voice certain and serious somehow. “I…” she sighs, shaking her head, then tries again. “ _Thank you,_ Killian…” she says.

“Aye, love…” Killian nods at her, eyes soft and happy staring right into hers. “You should know,” he says, and Emma almost panics, if not for the silly grin and stupid wiggle of his eyebrows then. “Daisy takes an awful lot after me; she’s cute, but she’s also a bloody handful…”

And of course his words have Emma laughing in seconds. She rolls her eyes, punching his arm in jest while muttering ‘ _Of course she is…_ ’ under her breath.

Killian laughs quietly, almost to himself, watching her out of the corner of his eye. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you so, Swan…”

She punches him again at that. Killian simply grins.

— ღ   —

 


	13. Thirteen

— ღ   —

He invites her to stay over for drinks that Saturday she watches Daisy. It’s been so long since they’ve sat in his tiny kitchen with drinks and just chilled. Emma brings some decent scotch she keeps in her apartment, but deep down she’s mostly just looking forward to the rum she knows Killian is going to offer.

She spent all of eight hours on her own with Daisy that day —she met Killian’s brother and his sister in law in the evening. Both lovely and completely smitten by Daisy. They were both also rather wary of her, Emma could tell.

She doesn’t blame them though, she can’t; she literally allowed Killian to raise their kid on his own for months —a whole year pretty much, of course she understands why they don’t trust her.

They were still gracious as they put the baby to sleep, reminded her that she had their numbers now, and could call them any time if she needed _any_ help with Daisy.

Emma had nodded —slightly mortified and even ashamed, but also humbled and grateful of the fact that her kid has indeed more family than just Killian loving on her.

Killian was home just a few hours after that —Emma was in his couch, dozing off every so often, his TV on but on mute. She didn’t want to wake up Daisy; she wanted to hear her if she cried or woke up, and she also wanted to hear Killian when he came home.

He smiled at her brightly, almost too brightly, and too pure as he greeted her. It surprised Emma when he went around the couch, touched her cheek with his hand, made _her_ smile, and then without warning leaned down kissing her forehead.  

He didn’t make a big deal out of it —barely even gave her time to react before he was strolling to his room to change, casually throwing in there his offer to share some pizza and drinks if she wanted.

That was almost already three hours ago. Emma had since then gone to her apartment, changed into comfy sleep clothes, gotten some alcohol from her place, returned, and had more than her fair share of Killian’s bottle of rum.

She knows she’s slightly tipsy —not drunk, not at all, but she does feel lighter and silly and just _where is **he** putting all his alcohol?_

She still smiles at him _—grins like an idiot at him_ — when he clinks their shots of rum together and downs his own, smirking at her as she shivers and grimaces after doing the same.

“You’ve gotten soft now, love?”

Emma tries to glare at him for pointing that out. “Can you blame me?” She asks, her voice sounding a tad more pitchy than usual. “I haven’t had a proper drink in like, what, almost two years now?” Her eyes are wide as she comes to the realization herself. She’s usually not one to pump and dump, so besides the very very occasional solo drink here and there, it’s been forever since she’s truly allowed alcohol in her system. She has to admit it feels great just to let go —even if just for one night.

(And especially if the person sitting beside her is Killian Jones of all people)

“Did you ever imagine this would be us one day when we met?”

Emma almost spits her drink at that. She shakes her head strongly, scooching into his personal space and staring at him straight in the eye. “Heck no, are you crazy?” She asks him. “My God, so much has happened since then —you remember Killian? The cocky bastard that came barging into my apartment without much of an introduction?”

The smirk on the idiot’s face at her questions is nearly priceless. “Ah, how can I forget? I lost my bloody dog and wound up finding her curled up in your couch —I was worried Swan, you can’t still hold that against me, can you? I was so bloody rude, but…it’s been years!”

But she does. Emma can’t help laughing —wholeheartedly, a tad too loudly considering there’s a sleeping baby in the apartment. Killian doesn’t say anything though; he just smiles at her, faking a disapproving look.

“I remember that dog,” Emma says then. “Whatever did happen to her again? You said something about a farm upstate or something right?”

“Yeah, something like that…” Killian replies, but can’t meet her eyes. Emma knows immediately that he’s lying.

Or, holding something back, at least.

“What is it?” She asks him. “What are you not telling me? What really happened to her?”

He looks mortified at her questioning –Emma would almost feel bad about it if she weren’t so damn curious to hear his answer.

“Killian,” she pushes, and he looks up at her shaking his head.

“You could _not_ stand my dog, Emma, remember?”

She frowns at his words, confused. It wasn’t that she couldn’t stand her; per se… she was _allergic_ to his dog. “Well, yeah, but–”

“I knew if I wanted to at least have a _chance_ with you, well, then my girl had to go—”

“ _WHAT_?!” Emma pretty much shrieks. She moves even closer to him then, staring at him strongly —too strongly to be completely honest. “You gave up Lady _for me_?”

“Well…

“Killian.”

“Aye,” he sighs eventually. Emma’s at a loss of words. “ _My God,_ Emma _, who_ in this world is allergic to bloody dogs?”

She smiles, guiltily and giggles.

“And bloody hell, not even _dogs_ , it was _my_ dog, wasn’t it? You aren’t allergic to most dogs in general, are you?”

“Nope,” she admits. “I don’t know what it was about her; I just couldn’t be around her for more than ten minutes without turning into a freaking sneezy mess…”

He shakes his head, and she knows he recalls the situation quite well. “I paid to deep clean my apartment after she was gone, you know?”

“You _what_?”

He shrugs, and then turns to her, _smirking_ knowingly, of course _._ “How long did it take you to accept my dinner invite in this place after Lady was gone?”

Emma groans –she can’t even reply —she was oh so very stupidly weak back then. As soon as the damn dog was gone, she was most certainly taking her chance with him as quickly as humanly possible.

“I can’t believe it.”

“You’re serious?”

“Well,” she thinks about it, then nods. “Yeah,” she says. “You gave up your dog, a dog that was with you for ages, _for me?_ For a random bang?”

And it’s seconds for his expression to turn sour and worse, _hurt._ “Who do you take me for huh?” He’s joking, _pretending_ to joke at least. Emma can’t ignore the intensity behind his eyes as he speaks. “I’ve never seen you as loot — _ever_. I knew the minute I met you it’d take time to win your heart, I knew it’d be hard work, I knew it’d be worth it in the end too —I wanted a chance with you, and well…if that meant my girl had to move, then I guess that’s what it was…”

Emma’s speechless for a minute then. She’s never, never ever allowed herself to admit to herself these things Killian seems to be so certain about.

She’s never allowed herself a real chance with him —not really. In the past, she closed herself off every time they started to get close.

All of it, only to pick up just where they left off a few days or weeks later when things settled a little.

She never gave them a chance, and then before anything could change, well…everything _else_ happened. _Daisy_ happened…

“How come you never said anything? I mean,” she shakes her head, trailing off.

Killian looks at her knowingly. “You would have run for the hills, love, am I wrong?”

Emma can’t answer.

“I don’t think I ever considered everything _else_ that would happen between us…”

She looks at him at that. “Well, how could you?”

“Aye,” he agrees, taking a sip from his previously forgotten beer. “What is it you’re so scared of, huh Swan?”

“Excuse me?”

He sighs and when Emma looks at him, at his flushed cheeks and glossy eyes, she thinks maybe he _is_ a little drunk after all. Or maybe he’s just sick and tired of dealing with her undecidedness. “You can’t tell me to my face you don’t feel _something_ for me.”

“What?” Emma asks back. “What are you talking about?”

He pretends he doesn’t hear that and instead just carries on. “You _adore_ Daisy,” he states. “She scares the shit out of you, but you _love her_. And I know you care about me as well, I know it scares you too, a lot, but I know my feelings aren’t one sided—”

“Killian, please don’t—”

“I thought all this time being a mother to Daisy was what scared you the most about —well, about everything. But then, these last few weeks, every time I see you with her, I see the way you cherish every little second with this baby so much, you _love her_ ,” he stresses pointedly. “It’s gotten me thinking you know, and I think maybe your fear isn’t all about Daisy after all.”

She can’t reply, won’t even look at him.

“You are afraid because you can see a future here, aren’t you? A future with me and Daisy and... _us,_ Swan…”

“You’ve, you have no idea what you’re saying…”

He looks hurt, but nods. “Guess not, huh?” He spits, a wee bit too rudely, but Emma can’t blame him. “Wishful thinking then I guess…”

She knows he’s pissed, she knows playing the clueless part makes him want to get off that couch and not even _look_ at her.

She knows exactly what he’s talking about.

She remembers how it was back then when they first met.

She remembers all those times she pulled away from him because she was scared.

She still is, and to be honest, the fact that he seemingly isn’t, makes _her_ a little pissed as well. “What makes you think it’ll work out?”

Killian doesn’t even turn to look at her; he rolls his eyes. “What makes _you_ think it won’t?”

“I asked you first.”

“I asked you second,” he actually does turn to her at that, staring at her petulantly.

Emma grunts, shaking her head and looking away from him.

He sighs. “I get it all right,” Killian starts; he puts down his beer on the coffee table, angling his body completely toward Emma. He hesitates, but then reaches for her hand and holds it in his.

Even though Emma still can’t _look_ at him, she allows him to do it as he carries on. “I get it’s hard for you to let people in, let alone _trust them_ , but even though we’re quite different, you’ve got to trust _me_.”

Emma lets out a breath before shifting toward him.

Killian continues, looking at her softly. “I know you think you’re protecting yourself, I know you’re scared, but love, you’re also _missing_ out on a lot of things.”

“Let me guess, _you_?” She asks him back, sarcastically.

Killian shrugs at her bite. “I was talking about _love…_ love,” he says, after a pause.

Emma’s mouth goes dry, and her heart beats stupidly fast as she remembers the first time _she_ kissed him —it felt like a challenge back then, kiss him, shut his pretty little mouth but it was so much more than that. She wanted it so much, despite how much she denied it to herself then (and to this day) she wanted to kiss him terribly.

She’s been fighting with her feelings for him ever since —she can’t say that she loves him, she _cannot,_ and she _won’t_ , but she won’t deny either that he is absolutely right, and an actual future in which they are a “ _we’_ , an “ _us_ ”, scares the living shit out of her.

Then again, she can’t quite imagine a future in which he isn’t in her life in some form either.

“You can’t possibly love _me,_ Killian, you’re just—” She tries to explain, but he cuts her off.

“Don’t go doing that Emma, don’t go putting words in my mouth —if I say, loud and clear that I’m in love with you, you can’t tell _me_ that’s not what I mean— _I know_ what _I_ mean, I know what _I feel,_ I know—“

“Are you?”

“Am I what? Am I _really_ in love with you?”

She nods, barely.

He chuckles, although this situation is far, far far from humorous. “Yes, yes I am, Emma…” Killian promises. “I’ve been in love with you for years, love…”

Emma takes a moment, processing his every word, then says, “What about Daisy?”

“What about Daisy?”

“She changed everything, Killian, didn’t she?”

“Aye,” he agrees. Then goes, “Daisy is my entire world, Swan. I love this little baby and I’d do anything for her. I can’t and won’t even try to imagine a world without her. She’s perfect and she’s _us_ and —she did change everything…she made it better. Daisy is my most precious thing, and guess what?”

“What?”

“Her mum isn’t too too bad herself at all.”

It makes Emma smile, in spite everything. “Her dad is not too terrible either.”

He chuckles, mockingly putting a hand to his heart. “So relieved to hear that, Swan…”

She smiles at him, but the lightness of the moment doesn’t last. It’s a funny thing, how suddenly it feels as though things have simply shifted into place. Things make _sense._ She’s seeing clearly for the first time in what feels forever.

She breathes deeply, her eyes shifting away from his, but her body in any case shifts as close to him as she can. She can _feel_ his confusion, the way he almost flinches when she lifts a hand to cup the back of his head. The way his breath hitches as she leans in closer to him with the sole intention of making their lips meet. She watches his mouth, the nervous way he licks his lips, watching her warily as she weighs in the moment and _every_ feeling cursing through them.

“Em—”

“Did you give up _L_ ady for me?” She needs to hear it again —she knows the answer already, but she _needs_ to hear it from him once more.

There’s a pause, a cautious look into her eyes, his own hand reaching up to cup her cheek, before at least he speaks. “Aye.”

And that’s it. His words are out easily like that, plain, and simply.

Her eyes widen; a tiny thing, but it’s all she needed to hear. Her eyes fall shut as she moves in even closer than before, his hand moves to her hair, holding her firmly to him. Her mouth touches his and it’s a milliard of feelings, and yet none at once. He’s soft, open, and perfect against her. They kiss and the world all around them is forgotten.

He pulls back once, briefly, simply _needing_ to meet her eyes, she knows, so Emma smiles at him, reassures him. She chuckles lightly before just moving to retake his lips with hers.

It’s familiar, the way her nose squishes against his cheek, the way his thumb finds the apple of her cheek, the way he breathes out a happy sigh when they pull away and their foreheads touch.

They knows this feeling, how it feels to be in his arms, the way she likes to play with the hair at the back of his neck, the way it tickles him and makes him laugh lowly. Everything about it feels familiar, but it also feels anew at the same time.

She stops thinking when again he’s kissing her —she can’t focus on anything else, she feels lost but he’s grounding her all the same anyway. It’s blissful and it feels as though they’ve both been waiting _too long_ for this. There’s no alternative but to cherish each and every touch, every stroke of their tongues, every tug and pull, every—

—Daisy, _of course_ , chooses that moment to whine loudly in her sleep and they hear it, loud and clear, through the baby monitor.

They startle, pulling apart from one another, but the spell isn’t broken all the way. Emma smiles at him lightly, a shy yet one hundred percent playful thing. Killian smiles back without thought. “Impeccable timing she has, doesn't she Swan?”

She nods, chuckling softly as he does too. Emma waits until he’s checked properly Daisy’s monitor, makes sure she’s still good and asleep before returning his attention to her. She looks at him for a beat, realizes how sure she still feels about _this,_ about them, and then just leans into him. She finds the crook of his arm to snuggle, and she just breathes deeply, relaxing in his embrace.

They don’t speak, not for a few moments, and it’s perfect.

Emma feels him shift, his fingers still playing gently in her hair, and then he just says it… “I missed you, love.”

She closes her eyes at his words, takes a moment before she nods. She knows what he means, she knows how he’s felt, she may not be the greatest at showing her feelings for him, but she’s missed him so fucking much as well.

She tilts her head back, catches his eyes staring down at hers. It doesn’t feel real to be this close to him again, to have no walls or barriers between them for once. It feels more like a dream honestly, yet there he is, flesh and blood before her, holding her and leaning his head downward for yet another kiss.

She giggles, a childish thing escaping her before she can stop it.

Killian’s lips purse, containing a smile of his own. “What’s so funny?” He asks, but Emma simply shrugs, snuggling into him just a bit more.

“I missed you too…” She says, and that’s _it,_ that’s all she can say for now, and thankfully, that is all he needs to hear for now.

He kisses her again then.

— ღ   —

 

 


	14. Fourteen

— ღ   —

The next few days fly by them in a haze of blissful reunion feelings. They are trying to be a ‘ _thing_ ’ while at the same time adjusting to how their new normal is going to look like.

Most days are still the same; she goes into work, Killian watches Daisy during the day, they see each other in the evenings. Nothing changes _too_ drastically, but things are still better, Emma thinks.

She is happier for one thing.

She texts him sometimes during the day, asks about Daisy, about how he’s doing, and he does the same back, even texting silly pictures of Daisy and sometimes even himself. Emma saves each and every one of those pictures to her phone each time.

Most days she just goes to his apartment instead of her place after work and that’s new too but she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Things right now are still new but also comfortable and perfect. And while she knows the newness of it all is not going to last forever, she hopes their feelings will. It’s the first time in over four years since she’s known him that they are trying to be a couple, something more than stupid friends who sleep together sometimes.

They have Daisy too to consider so of course the stakes are heightened. It’s a good thing though —it’s good to spend time together, the three of them. Even doing nothing, it’s mind-blowing to just sit with him and Daisy on the floor, play with her stupidly noisy toys, make weird faces and sounds to make her giggle. It’s vastly different to how it was before at times, but maybe that’s okay.

It may not seem like it all the time, but they _are_ hugely different people now than they used to be back then. They have both done some growing in the last year, _a lot_ of growing actually. Growing a baby, raising a baby, doing life on their own for almost an entire year before coming together again —it’s changed them.

It’s a process, every day, re-learning each other; much has stayed the same, but seeing all that has changed, is not that bad at all.

— ღ   —

It’s Monday so Emma gets to keep Killian to herself after he puts Daisy to sleep that night. She waits for him in his living room, two glasses of wine before her on the coffee table and a stupid grin on her face as soon as he steps out. She reaches for him as soon as he’s at arm’s reach; she drags him to the couch with her, straddling him as soon as he’s sat down. She giggles at his grunt, cupping his cheeks and simply kissing him quiet.

He laughs in any case, relaxing as they kiss sloppily and giggle quietly into each other’s mouth.

The way she so perfectly fits in his arms isn’t lost on Emma at all.

“Is it me, or it didn’t use to take you so long to put Daisy to bed?”

Her words break the spell in _seconds,_ and Killian groans loudly at her question.

Emma smiles, because he’s half smiling a little too.

She pushes back a bit, making sure she can look at him properly as he speaks. “She will not, uh, stay asleep?”

“Hmm what?”

He shakes his head, running a hand over his face. “I rock her to sleep with a bottle okay? Every night and for every nap. I’ve done this pretty much for the entirety of her life —I feed her a bottle, rock her, she falls asleep, I take the bottle, then I put her in her cot and she’s out —most of the times for the reminder of the night unless she’s sick, as you know,” he tells Emma. She simply nods at him; something like awe-like wonder in her eyes as she hears him speak like this about the baby.

“For the last few nights —actually _days and nights,_ Daisy just wakes up —the second I put her in her cot, those huge eyes of hers open and she whines if I don’t pick her right up,” he breathes out, shaking his head slowly at his newest dilemma. “It took me all four tries tonight until she actually _stayed_ asleep in her cot…”

Emma moves closer again, she doesn’t speak, but puts her hand on the back of his head and plays with his hair. He looks at her softly, “Sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean to rant.”

“No,” Emma speaks quickly. “I—it’s okay. Is just, you know, you are _really_ a father —it amazes me.”

His eyebrows knit together. “In a good way I hope?”

She smiles, playfully. “Of course you idiot,” she says, all the while still playing with his hair. “Why do you think she’s doing it though?”

“I don’t know,” Killian replies honesty. “She settles down the second I pick her up again, she puts her head on my shoulder and she’s right back to sleep in seconds —it’s just putting her in her bloody cot and getting her to stay asleep that’s killing me…”

They both, light heartedly chuckle a bit, until Emma says, “She must know.”

“Um?” Killian asks her, eyes narrowing.

“Daisy —she must know that I’m here waiting for you,” Emma tells him, trying like hell to sound serious. “She probably senses that she’s sharing you with me now —can you honestly blame her for being upset about that?” She asks him. “It must suck for the poor girl!”

Killian blinks once, twice, slowly, before the whole of her words compute in his brain and he laughs.

“For a second there I thought you actually had an idea about this thing she’s doing,” he scolds, playfully. “You may be onto something though, she _has_ had me all for herself for like a year now —makes you wonder if she comprehends how lucky she is, hey?”

Emma chuckles a little, tugging at those tiny hairs of his. She then ducks her head, touching her forehead to his, smiling when the idiot blows at her a tiny kiss and then smirks.

“I think she _is_ pretty lucky,” Emma tells him anyway.

Killian nods, although he does shift his eyes from hers and looks down smiling coyly.

“And to be fair, she’s a clever girl, I do think she _is_ going to notice…”

“Notice what?”

“That this strange lady gets to hug and kiss her dad now.”

Killian indulges her with a small laugh, but still shakes his head. “You’re not just a strange lady, though, Swan.”

Emma pushes back from him, looking at him strangely —as if he’s crazy.

Killian carries on. “You’re not just _a_ strange lady,” he notes. “You are _the_ strange lady that just so happens to also be her mum.”

“Right,” Emma nods, not meeting his eyes. Calling herself Daisy’s _mother_ after bailing on that baby for almost a year? Emma doesn’t think she’s there yet. Truly, she doesn’t think she deserves it…

“You wanna know something I know?”

“Uh, what? Yeah, sure, what?”

Killian however doesn’t speak —not right away anyway. He waits a beat until Emma looks up at him, until she meets his eye. She bites her lip nervously, squeezing Killian’s fingers when he intertwines their hands on their laps.

“I’ve seen you when you are with her, Emma.” He says. “I’ve seen you hugging her and kissing her until she’s giggling herself silly. I know you think I don’t notice, but I’ve seen the packs of diapers that just so magically appear in her closet. The way her drawers are suddenly organized and the new pieces of clothing that just so very randomly turn up in the wash.”

She frowns at his words, but doesn’t interrupt him as he continues. “Remember that time you borrowed me your eye makeup for work?”

“Yeah,” Emma stammers out almost, licking her lips slowly.

“When I went into your apartment that day —I saw your closet door, it was open, I got to see that blurry picture of Daisy you keep there,” he confesses. “I thought about just giving you a better picture, one that wasn’t blurry or whatever, but…”

“But what?”

Killian shrugs once, breathing out deeply. “That blurry phone picture of Daisy —she’s _smiling_ , right at _you_ and…I think, I think it’s a perfect picture —blurry and all…”

Emma can’t help the watery chuckle that escapes her at that —she kind of agrees. She actually agrees a lot with that. The picture _is_ perfect. She feels embarrassed though, embarrassed he’s not only seen it, but the fact that he’s noticed all those little things she’s tried doing behind his back all these months. “You seemed so busy with her all the time; I didn’t think you’d notice,” she says. “I guess I just wanted to help somehow…”

“You’ve helped us a lot.”

Emma shakes her head at that. “I haven’t —ever since you took her Killian, there —there hasn’t been a day I don’t think of her, of _you…_ ” She stresses pointedly. “I wish I’ve done more…I wish I’ve…” She trails off, but she hopes he hears it nonetheless. She wishes _she’d_ _been there…_

Killian doesn’t reply, just looks at her softly, and nods in understanding.

Emma leans into him then, her face burying in his shoulder, her body curling in his lap. Her eyes fall shut and for a little while then, they just breathe each other’s presence.

Is Killian who breaks the silence, changing the subject —and Emma knows he just wants to make her smile. “So, uh love, now that we’re alone…”

The way he says it makes Emma crack up and sit up properly in a rush. She looks at him playfully, but also with utter disbelief in her eyes. “Yeah, _right,”_ she says, eyes wide as ever. “You want us to get busy and risk _this_ happening again?” She tells him, fake flustered, pointing to Daisy’s monitor. She tries not to crack, staring into his eyes as he looks back and forth between her and the baby in the monitor.

He bites his lip, eyes shifting to Emma’s completely before he breathes out. “ _Fine,”_ he grunts out. “Fair enough, Swan…” He says, and every bit of self-composure Emma had up until then, goes out the window and she laughs.

She knows eventually they are going to have this conversation properly —she craves him just as much as he does her, _she knows,_ but she was only partly kidding. As much as they love Daisy, and they do — _wholeheartedly,_ she _knows_ — risking another unplanned pregnancy is not an option right now.

For now however, “I can kiss you, right? _Repeatedly?_ ”

Emma laughs, can’t stop herself. “Ah, you’d better…”

— ღ   —


	15. Fifteen

— ღ   —

It’s funny — _and not in a humorous way_ — how many hours she’s spent convincing herself the other shoe wasn’t going to drop, that everything was okay and everything was going to _stay_ okay, but then—

Then of course the stupid other shoe did drop.

It’s Sunday night, they spent the afternoon out with Daisy, and as tired as Daisy became, Emma and Killian aren’t that far behind in that department at all. Baby girl has endless supplies of energy and some days it seems it surpasses theirs.

Still, it was a wonderfully ordinary _family_ day and Emma wouldn’t trade one bit of it for anything.

She’s sleepy and rather spent, yet resisting saying goodnight and heading over to her apartment just yet.

She’s not ready to call it a day yet, so instead she’s fighting sleep, tidying up the kitchen while Daisy sleeps and Killian’s switching laundry down in their building’s basement.

Emma’s not snooping —she truly isn’t, but she isn’t blind either. It’s right _there_ —she’s picking up a stalk of papers from the coffee table, moving them to the counter and it’s really _right there —_ she can’t exactly ignore it once she sees it.

She freezes, momentarily thinking he’s going to be pissed; he hasn’t said anything about this, he’s obviously keeping it to himself for whatever reason.

Those thoughts are replaced by a complete different set of thoughts awfully quick though. She’s angry herself, _betrayed_ , and why would he think this isn’t something she needs to know about?

Emma hears him walk in the apartment a few moments later, but she doesn’t look up —she doesn’t _want_ to look up, she doesn’t want the last few weeks with Killian and Daisy to go to waste, to disappear, to go away. She doesn’t want to go back to how it was. She doesn’t want to lose them. She doesn’t want—

“Emma? Love?”

“Um,” she shakes her head, setting the papers she’s holding down, trying to decide what to do.

She hears the small thump when he sets down the laundry basket he was holding. He calls her name again and it edges with worry. It’s like she can hear the pieces of the idyllic happy life they pretended to have fall piece by piece.

She puts those feelings away for now, the heartbreak and the loss, and looks up at him instead. “You’re buying a place?”

“Um, what did you sa—“ The words die on his tongue the second he sees what she’s holding. His face falls, and not for the first time Emma wishes against hope she knew how to rewind time.

There’s no such a thing though, and she knows it.

“That’s not—”

“It’s not what I think it is?” Emma cuts him off. “Because to me it looks like you bought a damn place and are going to move away, Killian.” She shakes her head before he can answer —she’s furious that he lied —but fuck it, that’s not even _really_ it, she’s mostly just _sad_ and suddenly she wants to cry.

She can’t cry in front of him though, so she just picks up the damn papers and shoves them in his hands before rushing to the door.

She doesn’t make it far before Killian’s holding onto the crook of her elbow. “Emma, _wait!_ ”

“What? What are you going to say?” She just about shouts at him, before it hits her that there’s a sleeping baby down the hall and she closes her mouth shut. She squeezes her eyes and forces herself to take a breath. “Why did you lie to me?”

Killian’s eyes are troubled and uneasy as they meet hers. “Emma, I didn’t—”

“You didn’t lie?”

Killian’s jaw tightens; it’s a power struggle, she ambushed him, and she should be feeling bad about it, but she’s not.

She’s just fucking mad and _sad._

“I _swear_ I was going to tell you about it.”

“Yeah?” Emma asks him incredulously. “When, huh? Moving day? Oh, no, let me guess, you are so considerate you were going to tell me the night before you moved and took Daisy away, right? Wow, wow, thank you so damn much, Killian! I appreciate it _so much!_ ”

“Emma, please, just stop,” he pleads. “Let me talk?”

She just glares at him, but still doesn’t fight him as he drags her to the couch and sits.

“I’ve been looking to buy a place for months,” Killian starts, he gestures around them with his hand. “Look at this place, it’s bloody tiny, and Daisy, she’s getting _so_ big.”

Emma listens, but she’s scowling —she’s not happy about any of this and he needs to know it.

He carries on anyway. “When I think about the future Emma, I…I see her having so much more than this,” he confesses. “I want her to have her own room; a _actual_ bedroom she can decorate and make hers. I see her spending summer nights playing in a backyard, catching bugs or running around. I want more for her than the tiny balcony she has here….I…I just want _more_ for her Emma…”

And there is nothing she can say back to _that. What_ can she say? That she hates him for wanting the best for their kid? She can’t tell him that. She’s a jerk, she’s a horrible horrible person because she’s still fuming, but she can’t voice any of it.

She understands what he’s saying. She pictures what he sees, and she wants it too, she wants all of that and _more_ for Daisy as well.

It still _hurts_ though.

“I was going to tell you about this Emma,” Killian continues, stressing his words seriously. “I was, it’s just…everything’s been happening so fast, I…I didn’t want to spook you, love.”

Which is fair, Emma knows. _He_ is fair; she can’t blame him. She _is_ more than easily spooked, and _fuck_ , he’s right. Things have been happening fast — _too fast_.

Maybe _that_ has to stop. _Now_.

“I’m going to go now, Killian.”

“Emma.”

She’s already moving away, halfway to the doorway, but she does stop, looks at him over her shoulder. She doesn’t speak; she doesn’t apologize even though she wants too —she just looks at him and shakes her head.

— ღ   —

Killian’s entire body feels cold, he feels lost —he feels the loss, feels her slipping away from him rapidly.

He still can’t speak.

He doesn’t know what else to tell her right now.

It’s a mistake —to let her walk away, but he has sworn himself and Emma that whatever they are, whatever they become will be up to _her —_ that he will never force any of it on her, so he doesn’t.

He watches her walk away instead —watches that enormous part of his heart walking away with her.

_“I’m sorry, Emma…”_

— ღ   —

 

 

 


	16. Sixteen

— ღ   —

She’s miserable for the entirety of the next day. He doesn’t call or even text and Emma knows he’s doing what she needs him to; he’s giving her the space she needs to clear her head, to put her thoughts in order.

She still fucking misses him, though.

It hasn’t even been a whole day and she already misses him as if they haven’t spoken for days. It’s stupid, she knows, but this is their first real fight since they started whatever their relationship is these days.

It doesn’t make things any easier the fact that they are fighting over something that actually matters. He kept important information from her and now they are both hurting because of that.

And maybe it’s her fault too —she shouldn’t have gone all nosey into his personal paperwork. She believes him when he says he was going to tell her. Of course he was; she doesn’t doubt that for a second, but what she’s not sure about is whether her reaction would have been any different had he told her as opposed to her finding out.

She’s scared. That’s the bottom line.

She’s fucking terrified she’s going to lose them and truthfully, that’s not something she’s ready to deal with.

She grew comfortable; she grew content and allowed him and Daisy to simply become part of her life. They _both_ became _her_ life in more ways than one; her _heart_.

She hates this.

— ღ   —

Emma makes it to the end of the workday. She even stays afterwards a bit longer because she can’t bear going home just yet. She can’t stop thinking about how it’s going to be after he moves. How it’s going to feel to go home and them not being _there._

Even before they decided to be anything more than neighbors, it was still comforting to know she had _someone_ in Killian. The idea of them being gone, of Daisy never knocking on her door as if the whole world depended on it, of never running casually (or not so casually) into them again —it hurts. It scares her, and she doesn’t want it.

She doesn’t want that to be her life.

So in the end, when she does go home eventually, she goes with the goal of _talking_ to him at least. She has very little clue what she’s actually going to tell him, but she figures she’ll know when she sees him.

Worst case scenario, she’ll make a fool out of herself, but at the very least she’ll see him and that alone would be an improvement to her day.

It’s his Monday off, so sure enough he’s home when Emma gets there just after six.

She knocks, eventually, and the way her heartbeat rapidly picks up cannot be normal. She feels like her chest is going to explode. It doesn’t help that Killian, (for whatever reason) takes his stupid sweet time before answering the door.

And despite all of her careful planning to remain cool when she sees him, she freezes the instant he _does_ open the door. She can’t speak, she can’t move, she just—

“Swan.” He looks just as shocked, actually probably more, to see her there than she feels. He still speaks through his shock and tries to usher her inside. “Love, we _need_ to talk.”

Emma shakes her head at that; she doesn’t even know why she does it. It’s probably just a reflex at this point, she thinks, but she’s still stubborn and scared, so she says, “You’re moving away, Killian, what’s the point in talking about it?”

“Love,” he whispers, his head tilting to one side, his expression sad. “You’re here for a reason, aren’t you?”

She shakes her head again, reluctantly looking down.  

She’s expecting him to argue with her more, say something to change her mind, _something,_ but then before she can make sense of what he’s doing or what’s happening, he’s hugging her tight to his chest and that’s that.

Emma stiffens at first; it’s a stupid knee-jerk reaction, so she makes herself relax instead. Thankfully, it doesn’t take long after that for her walls to crumble one by one around them. Without thought she snuggles deep into his embrace and slowly lets what felt all day like a ginormous weight on her shoulders, fall.  

He moves them inside the apartment —kicks the door shut behind them with Emma still tightly wrapped in his arms.

“Killian,” Emma calls before he can move them further in. He stops walking, looking down at her with what seems like fear in his eyes.

Emma hates that. She hates that she put that fear there, but that’s why she needs to just say this now before she chickens out.

“I can’t lose her… _or you_ , I can’t lose either of you…not…not now, not after—” Her voice trembles; she wants to say more, she wants to tell him how these last few weeks have made her realize everything she’s already missed out and how much more she does _not_ want to keep missing out on. She wants to tell him that he’s right and she _loves them_ —both of them, him and Daisy and—

“Swan,” his voice is so tender and kind, it makes tears start prickling in her eyes in seconds. She still looks up at him, tries as hard as she can not to let her tears fall. “As far as I’m concerned, Daisy and I, we’re your family love —you aren’t getting rid of us. Not now, not ever.”

“But—”

“But no buts,” he shushes her, gently. “Besides, we aren’t even moving any time soon —the house needs so much work before is ready for the little princess, you know?”

Emma nods at that, but she’s still far from assured.

And of course, as if he was reading her thoughts from an open book, Killian then adds, “It’s less than two miles from here too, you know?”

“The house?”

“Aye,” he says.

“Still…”

“I know love; I know it won’t be the same as being down the hallway from each other, but…” he shrugs, trailing off and instead hugging her to him again. Emma hugs him back, her cheek pressed against his chest, her hand reaching up to rest right over his heart. “You know…there’s going to be more than enough spare space once all the repairs and renovations are done…”

“Killian–”

He smirks despite her attempt at a serious tone.

Emma in any case can see right through his smirk. She sees how very not joking he is being in his eyes.

“Oh what Emma?” Killian carries on anyway. “You truly think I’d find us a home and wouldn’t factor in room for the lovely mother of my child?”

She chuckles, because he’s simply ridiculous, but then, of all things she could say, she says the one that seems more urgent to her. “Our child”

“Um?”

“You said, mother of _your_ child —but she’s ours. Daisy’s _our_ kid.”

And for whatever reason her words have him grinning madly. “Aye love, aye, she is…she’s perfectly _ours.”_

— ღ   —

They share drinks (it’s Monday but who the bloody hell cares) and grilled cheeses because she’s starving (of course) and truly, he hasn’t had all that much to eat himself throughout the day (too worried about everything to even _think_ about food).

So they settled for an evening at home, had a little rum, cooked dinner as if everything was well. They sat in his tiny dining table, their elbows touching and their legs and feet doing so as well under the table.

It’s amicable silence as they ate, Killian reaching for her hand when they are finished, intertwining their fingers, and giving them a little squeeze he hopes translates as reassuring.

Emma smiles at him, it’s sad a little at the edges, but she’s here and she’s looking at him with hope in her eyes, and even trying to smile at him. Killian will take it as a blessing and carry on.

“Do you really think it’s possible?”

“What?” He asks back, even though he has a pretty good clue as to what’s she referring to.

“Everything, everything you want —that white picket fence life?

It’s a loaded question but Killian still doesn’t hesitate before replying. “Yes.” He tells her, certainly, then shrugs and offers Emma a playful smile. “You just need to put your faith in me —in our future. We can do this.”

Emma’s eyes widen slightly, and he knows she’s still scared, overly so, but she doesn’t pull away from him and that’s a step in the right direction.

“Do you really believe that?”

Killian nods, his face serious and certain. “Aye,” he tells her simply. “I really do.” He adds. “I’ll never stop fighting for us, love. All you have to do now is…trust me. This _will_ work…”

Emma’s quiet for a moment, but Killian can almost see the wheels in her head turning, sees the beginning of a smile in her face, and it makes him glad.

“When did you become such an optimist, huh?”

He flashes a grin —an actual pure silly grin that wrinkles the corners of his eyes. “One of us had to,” he tells her, shrugging. “ _Plus_ , I’ve been spending a lot of time with Daisy, it’s helped…”

Emma indulges him with a nod of her head and a laugh. “I bet.”

— ღ   —

It’s not until later, until all the dishes from dinner are picked up and washed, until they are settled on his couch, until his arm is around her and her cheek is on his chest, that Emma decides now’s as good time as any to apologize, and truly, she _needs_ to.

Without overthinking herself more, she shifts slightly in his arms so that she’s looking at him properly and starts, “I _am_ sorry about last night, Killian. You know that, right?” She asks him, but doesn’t wait for him to respond before she carries on. “I _really_ didn’t mean to read those papers, they were just _there_ and…I’m just sorry, Killian, I really am…”

He looks at her softly, he looks at her as if he _really_ does love her, and…it scares the shit out of her, but…maybe one day it’ll not.

“It’s quite all right love, I swear.” He promises, his hand reaching up to cup her jaw. “The truth is, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about this for weeks. I just couldn’t figure out _how.”_

She nods at him, understanding. “How long have you been waiting on that place?”

“Um,” he says, thinking. “A few months —I’ve placed a few offers before, but didn’t manage to secure anything until just this month…”

Emma looks down, at their hands that are now intertwined, his fingers lazily stroking hers.

“It’s fast, love, I know, I’m sorry about th—”

“No, please don’t. Is not that,” Emma says, but then quickly changes her mind. “Actually —well, yes, it is that. It _is_ so damn fast —we were barely in speaking terms a few weeks ago and now…now you have a home and I, _us_ I mean—“

“—I like the way that sounds,” he cuts her off, but she has no idea what he’s talking about.

“What? The way what sounds?”

“Ah, you know, you just said _a home,_ and love, truthfully, that _is_ all I want —for you, for Daisy and myself, I want that, I want us all to have a home…it doesn’t matter where or how, just… _us_ , you know?”

And suddenly she does understand exactly what he’s talking about. “Yeah, I do know…”

Killian nods, smiling at her easily.

There’s something about the way he looks at her then though, one second his expression is happy, but neutral, but then…then it changes to something playful, his smile almost a smirk now and—

She _knows_ what he’s thinking and no, it’s not happening. “There is _no way_ you are convincing me to move in with you right away,” she stresses pointedly. “Just so you know.”

“Oh Emma.”

“What?” She sounds defensive, but truly, she barely means it. She just needs to make a point.

Although the stupid giant smile on her face is probably giving her away, but what the fuck, she can still _try_ to make her point, can’t she? “You don’t believe me?”

“Oh, I believe you,” Killian replies, smug as ever the bastard.

She rolls her eyes, out of sheer principle, really. “Then what is it?”

He shrugs, as if it’s no big deal. “Oh love, it’s nothing, just…I suppose it’s a good thing I love a challenge, huh?”

“You’re an idiot.” And he is. He truly, one hundred percent is.

Killian doesn’t agree nor denies it. He just smiles at her mischievously. “This is going to work love, you’ll see…”

Emma doesn’t have a reply to that —she just meets his eyes and hopes like hell he’s right.

— ღ   —

 

 

 

 


	17. Seventeen

— ღ   —

In the end, Emma, true to her word (and stubborn as always), doesn’t move in with Killian and Daisy _right away_ —and truthfully, it’s more so out of principle than anything else. At least that’s what she tells herself.

She helps Killian with everything she can getting the house ready. She’s right alongside him as they repair and then paint the entire place whenever they weren’t working or caring with Daisy —which wasn’t easy in the least, but they managed.

She helps picking furniture and even puts her own dimes to help transform the house into a home —their home.

It does feel like _their_ home from the very start, yet Emma takes weeks ( _three_ —okay, two _and a half_ weeks) before she _finally_ throws in the towel and tells him she’s done being stupid and she’ll be moving properly come the weekend.

And she does.

And it’s strange —she’s not exactly down the hallway from him, but well, it’s a good kind of strange for the most part.

They share a room —they have already for months before too, Emma crashing at his place more often than not as the months passed, so is not _that_ new of a step.

Still, it _is_ different —she doesn’t _own_ her own space anymore for one thing— and some days she feels it’s a little much and she needs her space from him.  

Some others though, _most others_ honestly, she thinks all day about just getting home. About seeing Daisy toddling her way full speed toward the door when she walks in. About seeing Killian most likely in the middle of dinner prep, sometimes with the toddler on his hip, most times with two or three spoons in one hand while the other waves at her _hello._

She has a home —for the first time in her life, she has a home and a family that is very much hers.

It’s everything, even when it isn’t always the easiest to make it all work. Killian’s schedule is still crazy and late night is still their favored ( _only)_ time when they are truly together just the two of them.

It’s hard but it’s also worth it and they never look back.

Well, they _do_ look back _sometimes_. They still go on walks a lot with Daisy –during the weekends, or early evenings when she makes it home from work early enough they can squeeze a walk with their little girl. They’ll walk by their old apartment building sometimes and no matter how much time passes, it’s still bittersweet. Over _four_ years of their lives happened in that place; they met there, they essentially fell in love and had their child in that place.

So many lows, but also some pretty fantastic highs.

All of it was worth it —even if it still feels slightly bittersweet at times too.

— ღ   —

It's a crazy week. One of _those_ weeks and Daisy is either going through a terrible clingy phase _or_ fighting a bug _or something_ , because for the most part, she's simply not herself. She's being especially whiny and sleepy. Just borderline _melodramatic_ when something — _anything—_ doesn't go her way.

They are all dealing with it though —lots of cuddles seem to do the trick every time but there's still a lot that needs to be done and a lot that _isn't_ getting done.

It's stressful a little —especially for Killian, Emma notices. He's exhausting himself, trying to do everything even when he's already done a lot. Like clean up after dinner the second he settles Daisy happily with toys, despite the fact that _he_ cooked dinner and he needs to be heading out to work soon.

He doesn't push her help away but he's also very much trying to be on top of _everything_ and from Emma's spot, it looks pretty damn exhausting. She thinks she can see through him —how hard he’s trying to have everything perfectly in order twenty-four seven because he's like that.

He tries his best and gives his max — _all the time_ , despite the fact that he has her now to share on the load around the house and especially with Daisy.

On the random occasion, Emma would still feel like a guest in this house and not a member of the family. Killian tries so hard — _too hard,_ and maybe it's time they have a talk about it.

That night he nearly breaks a sweat by the time he's picked up the whole kitchen, the living room, all of Daisy’s toys, and gotten himself _semi_ ready for work.

When Emma kisses him goodbye, her hand comes to rest over his heart like always and it almost breaks her heart to feel it thumping so fast within him. She doesn't say anything then though —she kisses him slowly, tells him to break a leg and that she'll miss him before he's out the door.

She stays behind with Daisy; she goes to the couch, and sits cuddling her as she rewatches for the umpteenth time the same episode of _Curious George_ she loves so much.

It's the one with the monkey buying a gazillion Donuts and Daisy thinks it's hilarious _every single time_. She looks up at Emma every time something she thinks is funny happens, and Emma loves smiling extra big and giving a laugh just to see the satisfaction on that little girl’s face.  

Emma's gotten decent by then with Daisy's routines — she doesn’t do things exactly like Killian does, but they’ve found that’s what works best for the three of them.

At night time she can now get Daisy to sleep with minimal crying, if any at all, and that's the most important thing at the end of the day for her and Killian —a happy baby.

Emma does bath, cuddles and books after PJs are on, and while to this day the baby still needs a bottle and rocking to fall asleep, Emma's mastered the ability to transfer Daisy from her arms to her bed whilst keeping her fast asleep.

It's only a bit past eight when Emma steps out of Daisy's room that night.

She decides to wait for Killian awake that night, which she almost always does anyway, but this particular night she makes it a point not to doze off before he’s home.

She also makes it a point to have everything picked out and clean(ish).

When he gets home, he tells her he's exhausted (of course he is, that doesn’t shock her at all) sleepily crushing onto her and letting her stroke the back of his head as he presses his nose into her hair and breathes slowly.

She loves him like this though —when he finally relaxes and lets go of everything that worries him and troubles him.

Which is exactly what he fails to do most days and nights, since Emma's been with them full time.

Emma’s happy and she knows he is too, but she still wants things to be _better_. She wants to be his partner and not just his very high maintenance guest that makes him work extra hard every day to keep everything together.

“Was Daisy good for you?”

Emma hums and silently nods her head

She feels Killian smile against her shoulder. “Mm good, I'm glad,” he mumbles, sleepily.

They stay like this for a few minutes, Emma's almost afraid he's fallen asleep against her, but then he says, “Wanna turn in early?”

It makes her chuckle a little. “It's past midnight; I don't think it counts as early if it's already this late.”

He chuckles too but it's tiredly and it breaks her heart a little too to hear him so drained.

She shifts slightly then, kisses the side of his face, his brow, and his cheek. “Let’s go to bed kay?”

“Mmhm.”

Emma decides to wait until the next morning to speak with him —he really is too tired and essentially passes out as soon as they get under the covers that night anyway.

She’s not even sure what she’s going to say. She especially doesn't want to make this about her, telling him how she's feeling about the whole situation when the reality of the matter is that this is really about _him._ About him still cautiously waiting for the other shoe to drop and having to be doing all of this on his own once more.

When she wakes up the next morning, she’s not all that shocked when Killian is already up with Daisy. Emma didn't even hear her wake up —sometime in the middle of the night Killian took the monitor from her side of the bed to _his_ , of course.

Shaking her head, Emma goes to the bathroom to wash her face and teeth. She does it whilst listening carefully to Killian and Daisy downstairs. Daisy is whining about her breakfast or something, and like always, Killian is trying to pacify her as best as he can.

Emma is half way picking out her clothes for work when she simply decides she's going to call in sick. She's never going to get this conversation with Killian done if she keeps waiting until he's less tired in the evenings after work.

By the look of things, that isn't going to happen any time soon, so without overthinking it, she grabs her phone and gives work a call. They aren't happy of course, but to hell with them —sick days are synonym to family days somewhere, she's sure.

When she comes downstairs, still in her pajamas and messy bed hair, Killian looks at her with wide eyes. “Did you catch Daisy’s bug love?”

Daisy stands on her chair and swats at his arm playfully. “Me no bug Daddy!” She giggles before jumping off the seat and rushing to Emma.

Emma laughs and picks her up without thought. She looks over at Killian and shakes her head. “I'm fine,” she promises. He looks at her incredulously, though. “I swear —I just wanted to spend a bit of time with you and the little miss…”

“Really?” He asks her, surprised.

Emma nods easily at that. She holds his gaze for a few more moments before shifting her attention to Daisy. She hugs her little girl tightly and kisses her cheek. “Morning babe.”

“Morning mama,” she says and goes to cup Emma’s face in her still too small chubby hands.

It grounds Emma instantly —this little girl’s love, how openly and freely she loves on them. There is nowhere Emma rather be but right here with her and her Daddy. That is simply what Emma wishes she can make Killian see.

— ღ   —

 “Who do you want to put you down?”

Daisy actually considers it, looks back and forth between the two of them for a whole moment before flashing her best grin and going to Emma. “MAMA!” She shouts, and they both laugh.

Killian smiles knowingly at Emma, knowing well enough those fears that Daisy would never completely accept her are still ever so present in her mind.

Emma hugs Daisy, picks her up, and after they _both_ give Daddy hugs and kisses (Emma too, for whatever reason Daisy deems necessary) they go upstairs.

Killian stays down —picking up lunch and the small avalanche of toys and mess Daisy already managed to create in the living room.

Ten minutes later or so, Emma comes down the stairs and smiles at him sweetly —also knowingly because this is a common occurrence in their home as well.

Killian looks over at her, putting down the pile of books he was holding.

“Daisy wants one more kiss, a hug and a cuddle before going to sleep? Is that okay? I told her you’d be right up…”

“Of course,” Killian assures her, smiling brightly right away. Truth is, he loves putting his baby to sleep —it’s a thing he’s told Emma before, how it does get a little weird not doing certain things with Daisy any more —or not doing them _all the time_ anyway.

_“Don’t get me wrong, love —I love you here, and I bloody love having an extra set of hands and eyes, and even more love for Daisy, is just…”_

_“She’s your baby,” Emma had reminded him that one time. “You’ve done everything for her for the last year or so —of course it’s weird to have to share her, to have me here pretending to play house…”_

_He had nodded, agreeing, but then had reminded her, “We aren’t quite pretending to play house though —we are playing, seriously, nothing pretend about it.” And that had be that._

— ღ   —

In the end, Killian successfully finishes putting Daisy to sleep. She’s just about two these days and her one nap after lunch is almost a sacred thing. She sleeps reliably for well over two hours every day, so it’s during that time that Emma gathers her courage and sits down with Killian.

She tries to lay it all down easy for him —the last thing she needs is him misunderstanding what she’s saying, so she tries, but it doesn’t take from the fact that she sucks at these kind of conversations most of the time.

“So what are you saying?”

Emma feels her heart squeezing painfully a little; she can hear the confusion in his tone, the uncertainty in his eyes. She breathes out slowly, tries to calm her own heartbeat as she reaches out, and holds onto his hand. “I’m saying that I love you and that I don’t need you to try so hard.”

“Uh…”

She knows he doesn’t know what to think. Emma’s trying to comfort him as best as she can but she knows he’s still feeling lost about everything she’s trying to say.

It makes her smile when despite everything he still squeezes her hand when their eyes meet.

“I won’t run for the hills if Daisy is having a rough day, you know?” Emma continues. “If _you_ are having a tough day,” she adds, smiling at him knowingly and nothing Killian can say can deny that. “It’s okay if there are messes or I have to pick up after dinner because Daisy wants you and not me to put her down. That’s okay with me —I want that, I want _this —_ the real _this,_ not the sugar coated version you keep trying so hard to sell…”

Killian’s eyes fall to their hands, their intertwined fingers, his jaw clenches slightly.

Emma allows him a moment, she scooches closer to him on the couch they are sitting, and works her arm around his shoulder, pulling him closer to her and not further away. “I’m happy to be here, Killian. _Very_ happy, but…I guess I just want you to know that this isn’t a ship you have to captain to perfection…”

His eyes flick upwards to meet hers, she smiles softly at him, and it warms her completely from the inside out when he returns it.

She loves this man —everything he does, everything he’s done these last few months since they’ve been living together is in hopes to make her happy and she knows this.

He has given her everything she’s never had —a home, a family. Emma knows now with all certainty it truly never occurred to him that perhaps he didn’t need to try so hard.

After all, what matters in the end is that they are together, the three of them with their little girl and that’s that.

“I’ll still love you, even if everything isn’t _perfect_ every single moment of every single day…”

It takes him a moment, not long really, just a few more seconds for the entirety of her words to settle before his whole demeanor changes. He blinks and everything suddenly feels lighter and righter.

Emma can’t stop herself from smiling fully at him —her fingers play with the short hairs at the back of his head as she moves in closer, this time to kiss him and it’s perfect.

Killian smirks though —Emma cannot only _sense_ trouble _but_ pretty much see it in his mischievous expression. “What?”

“You just said _I love you_ twice,” he notes, faking nonchalance. “In like, a five minute span?”

Emma rolls her eyes, but it’s a playful thing and if she weren’t trying to pretend to be annoyed, she’d tell him again right then just how much she truly loves his stupid self once more. “So what if I did?”

Killian shrugs, humming, playfully smirking at her. “It’s nothing; just…a man can’t help but get used to it…”

He’d been the first one saying _I love you_ a few months ago —he jumped the gun quickly, too quickly perhaps, just around the time they were just getting together again in the first place.

It took Emma a little longer. She’s always been more guarded with her feelings, more hesitant and unsure, but with Killian things are different.

She did say it eventually —and truth is, she hasn’t had a problem admitting to that love since.

 “Well maybe that’s okay…” Emma replies at last. “I’m not going anywhere, after all...”

Killian smiles, reaching up to tuck away that one stubborn lock of blonde hair behind her ear. He’s gentle and slowly strokes her cheek before pulling back. He looks firmly into her eyes for a beat before he says, “I love you, Emma Swan.”

And of course as he says this, all hints of playfulness disappear.

She nods at his words, using her hand on the back of his head to bring him in closer, making their foreheads touch. “I love you too,” she promises and means it more than she’s probably ever meant anything this strongly.

Killian’s eyes flutter close; he breathes them in, and then just smiles dreamily at her.

Emma grins in return and that’s that. It’s nice to simply be like this with him —so still and hopelessly in love, and just…at peace with one another.

It almost feels like…well, like _magic_.

— ღ   —

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's done! (but for the ten-years later epilogue! Which I'll revise tomorrow because that one does need a bit more work but I just can't look at all the words anymore lol)  
> At first I wanted to work on this story for the CSBB but...yours truly really has no business pretending I can actually write, so....here's all the words because yes! I just needed to get this out of my system :)


	18. Epilogue

— ღ   —

New York is their home for several years and yet it’s never _really_ _home._

They do find such place though, eventually, around the time Daisy is in the first grade, and Killian’s dream job opens up in a tiny cozy town in Maine.

It’s amazing a little how easily they all agree this is the best for their family.

Even Daisy is on board; she’s gutted about saying goodbye to her friends, but moving to small town Storybrooke does mean dad won’t be away essentially every night of the week so she’s in —they don’t have to ask her twice.

Emma has to give up her job in New York as well, but of all three, she’s probably the one that has the easiest time saying goodbye to _that_ part of her life. Not that she ever hated her job (it made it so she could live more than comfortably for years after all) but she never exactly loved it either.

They aren’t sure what Storybrooke, Maine, has to offer her work wise, but,  just as Daisy, Emma’s strangely optimistic about it from the get go.

Killian on his part is elated —he kept telling himself he loved the city for years (more than he’s comfortable admitting) but the truth is that he loved _his job_. He loves the backstage of the theater, the magic behind the scenes, making his own flavor of magic alongside the orchestra. He _loves_ his job and he knows in his heart he’ll love it even more when it stops keeping him away from his family so bloody damn much.

So in the end, it was an easy decision for him to take the job in Storybrooke.

He’s aware he’s essentially making Emma and Daisy give up their lives so that he can pursue a better opportunity in a complete new place. He knows this and it does make him guilty a little, but thankfully, his guilt lasts less than a week upon arriving to Storybrooke.

It’s immediately obvious they are _home_ when they get there. They make friends, almost instantly. More impressive, _Emma_ makes friends. _Emma, his Swan._ The same Emma who in four years never once willingly chit chatted with any neighbor that wasn’t Killian back when they lived in Queens.

The people of Storybrooke are surprisingly welcoming to them all, and it makes the transition far easier than they would have expected.

Killian settles in quickly at his new job, building from scratch Storybrooke’s main (and only) theater company and he absolutely loves it. He makes his own hours, he works from home if needed, he’s free to bring Daisy along, bring _Emma_ along as well when she wants to.

There isn’t a superior he needs to answer to that hates his guts for no reason whatsoever. It’s _good._ It’s a bloody good change and they couldn’t be happier if they tried.

They move in the summer, giving Daisy more than enough time to get used to her new life before starting up school again in the fall. She’s a clever little lass and it takes her no time at all to work her school life in Storybrooke though. She makes fast friends with their neighbor’s little boy, Leo, and coincidentally, the boy happens to be in her class.

It helps her confidence once school actually starts and things thankfully run smoothly for the most part. Little hiccups are there but nothing their kid can’t overcome.

And then there’s Emma —his Swan; fierce and fiery, yet completely okay taking a few months off once they move to Storybrooke.

They have more than enough saved up that she doesn’t _need_ to bring in a second income right away, so she takes her time. Killian is bloody happy they can afford that —over the years Emma has given him so much (truly, so bloody much) the least he can do for her now is allowing her whatever time she needs to figure out who she wants to be in this new life of theirs.

For _years_ , she worked finding people —finding all those that didn’t want to be found. Quickly enough she realizes there is very little of that here in Storybrooke. Is a rather small town, they are sure they know just about everyone (at least in passing) after the first month there (first _two weeks_ , most likely).

She tells him she’s excited one night and Killian simply beams at her proudly. _“I’ve done the same damn thing for so long; it’s kind of cool to know I get to do whatever I want now.”_

And so the search begins. It doesn’t happen overnight; she tries some things and hates them (helping at the local library, what was she thinking!) but eventually she starts detesting the things she’s trying a little less each time.

Eventually the Sheriff’s department (of all places and jobs) happens and it’s almost a done deal from the start.

She quickly warmed up to their neighbors, both David and Mary Margaret, and especially their little son Leo given how happy it made Daisy to make a good friend in their new town. It still surprises Killian when she comes home one day telling him she may want to team up with David at his job. He’s surprised, he didn’t consider law enforcement as a career path for Emma; neither did she, to be honest, but she seemed _quite excited as she told him about it._

_“So, you’d…be a deputy?”_

_Emma simply smiled at him and nodded, a playful little thing. “Yeah, at first.”_

_“Aye,” Killian replied, nodding slowly as well._

_It made Emma chuckle._

_“And you want this?”_

_She sat by him then, allowing him to take her hand and kiss her knuckles. “Yeah, I think I do actually.” She told him. “I get to help people, I get to do something a little different, yet still familiar enough that I know I’ll be good at it. Never mind I get to throw people’s asses in jail, what’s not to love?”_

_Killian cracked at that one, he couldn’t keep his composure longer at that. “Swan!”_

_She smiled at him, indulgently. “I mean it though; I think this can be a really good thing…”_

_He continued to smile at her, but it was obvious he was still not one hundred percent convinced._

_Emma had turned to him fully —probably after reading his expression. She used her hand to cup his chin, smiling at the way his scruff scratched her palm. “What is it, huh? You can tell me.”_

_He didn’t reply right away, he just looked at her instead, considering her question carefully for a moment. “I just worry that you’re safe love.”_

_“Ah,” Emma said, realization hitting her instantly. “Oh Killian, I’ll be okay, have you seen this place? Quiet sleepy town Storybrooke? This isn’t New York, Killian, I can handle it.”_

_He nodded at that, almost immediately. “Of course you can, love. I don’t doubt that for an instant, but still…”_

_“You worry?” Emma filled in for him._

_He nodded, shifting his eyes down._

_“I’ll be careful,” she whispered then. She leaned in even closer to him, her mouth almost touching his ear. “I’ll be super super careful,” she added playfully, making him smile despite himself._

_She laughed, breathy and silly right in his ear —he nearly melted right then._

_“I just want you to be happy, Swan.”_

_“I am, you know?” She answered. “I’m very very happy. I just think kicking criminals’ butts will make me even happier, hm?”_

_He chuckled, couldn’t help himself. “Aye love,” he said, leaning in and kissing her nose softly. “Promise me again you’ll be careful though.”_

_Emma smiled at him, indulged him with another kiss and a strong nod of her head. “I will,” she said. “I promise.”_

— ღ   —

The first time Daisy asks for a little brother or sister is a few weeks after Mary Margaret and David announce they are expecting a second baby. Daisy is eight and thriving in the third grade, she’s clever and kind, and seems quite genuinely confused when the response she gets from her parents isn’t an affirmative one.

“But Leo—”

“We know love,” Killian interrupts, kneeling down in front of his daughter. “But just because your mate is getting a baby brother doesn’t mean you have to as well, love…”

Daisy frowns. “But I _want_ one.” She insists, staring at Killian strongly.

Emma waits for a beat, watches Daisy, her strong posture, watches Killian, suddenly at a loss of words, and then steps in.

“Daisy.”

“Yeah,” Daisy replies.

Emma breathes deeply. “I know this may be a bit confusing, but having a baby isn’t all that simple. You can’t just go to the store and get one.”

“I know this,” Daisy huffs, frowning seriously, her eyes down. “The mommy has to grow it, kind of like Miss Nolan is growing baby Batman.”

Her words throw Emma off, but she recovers quickly.

David is insisting they name the new baby _Bruce_ “ _After Bruce Wayne of course_ ,” so calling the growing baby bump ‘ _Baby Batman_ ’ has become a playful thing between him and the kids.

Right now, that’s not the most pressing point however. “Well, mommy doesn’t have a baby in her tummy—”

“But you _could_ ,” Daisy points out. She steps closer to Emma, looking up at her fully, serious as ever. “Why can’t you do it? Why can’t I have a little brother or sister like Leo?”

“Oh love.”

“Daisy.”

Killian and Emma speak simultaneously; they share a look before Emma takes the lead and replies. “That’s not it, Daisy, we’d love that, but—”

“But what?”

“But it’s not that simple sweetie,” Emma says, almost dejectedly. “It’s not that easy.”

Daisy’s face falls.

Emma’s heart aches for Daisy and for a split second she wishes she could have told Daisy that they would love more but to give her a sibling.

The truth is, for over a year they had been trying to do as much. Ever since they moved to Storybrooke, ever since they settled in and realized how wonderful life in this little town was.

They sat down, they discussed it, they decided now was probably a good time to _finally_ expand their little family. Back in New York, it never seemed like the right time, that with Emma’s job, Killian’s job and his odd hours. Never mind Daisy and all the time she and all her activities demanded.

Life in Storybrooke is different; their schedules suddenly became a lot more flexible, and having a baby seemed possible.

Nature or, whatever or whoever it was that decided these things, didn’t seem to get the memo though.

Month after the month nothing happened. Emma continued getting her cycles despite how much or how little sex they had any given month.

Over a year now, they’ve been trying and so far, they had nothing to show for, not even a late period or even a random unusual soreness.

Everything continued as normal and yet none of it ever felt as soul crushingly painful as that evening with Daisy asking for a baby sibling almost at the verge of tears.

That night Emma cried in Killian’s arms for the first time since they’ve sat down and decided to start trying for a baby. She felt guilty, she felt mortified and even ashamed of herself. It was on her; _she_ was the one that had to do this —grow a baby for nine months and bring it into their family. It was her fail; Daisy’s frustration, Daisy’s pain, it was on _her,_ and that very night it all became far too much to bear on her own and she broke down.

Killian was her rock, as he always is, holding her, whispering soothing words every now and again, kissing her head, reassuring her, reminding her they’ve _only_ been trying for a year, they still had time and if it was meant to be, that little baby would most certainly join them one day.

_“But when?”_ Had been Emma’s reply, and one that Killian sadly didn’t have an answer to.

— ღ   —

Daisy doesn’t dwell or gives them much grief after that conversation. She mopes and is visibly upset for a couple of days or so after, but life carries on and it is what it is.

She mentions it sometimes, how nice it’d be if they had a small cute, squishy baby like baby Ryan (in the end Mary Margaret successfully stopped David from naming their infant son _Bruce_ ) but she doesn’t get as upset as she did that first time that they discussed the subject.

Emma’s strategy is not to talk about it too much. To smile and nod every time Daisy brings it up, but restrain herself from giving her an actual answer —whether that is a resolute no or a yes.

They haven’t given up hope  —at all. She doesn’t want to, Killian doesn’t want to. Even as the months keep passing and there’s still no baby, they don’t give up.

Deep down inside they both still hope one day (one day soon, perhaps) it’ll happen.

It’s frustrating, especially to Emma, as she tells Mary Margaret one evening. She’s holding baby Ryan, he’s so little, barely two months old and she can’t stop herself marveling at his every tiny and so very precious feature. It’s when Mary Margaret catches her almost tearing up that the topic just comes up.

_“I got pregnant with Daisy without trying, I got pregnant while on birth control, I got pregnant with Daisy with Killian using freaking condoms, and now…”_

_“Oh Emma.”_

_“It’s okay,” Emma had said, although she had felt anything but okay that evening. She instead had focused on the little baby sleeping soundly in her arms, on his pouty little lips, so perfect and so kissable. “We just have to keep trying, right?”_

_“Yeah…you just can’t lose hope.” Mary Margaret had reminded her, and while not entire convinced, Emma had nodded._

_“Yeah.”_

— ღ   —

It becomes tradition over the years to spend most holidays with Killian’s brother and his family. They make it a point to see each other throughout the year as well, but holidays are always a must and it’s usually a great thing to put their families together under one roof a few times every year.

Liam, his wife Elsa and children are rooted in Boston. They moved from New York when Daisy was two and a half years old and their first baby was on the way. They’ve now expanded their family with two extra little ones and the fact that they all live closer now, even if not in the same town, makes it easier for them to get together.

Daisy is absolutely smitten by her cousins and Emma simply loves the caring way she has towards them.

This time around, the excuse for their get together was Easter. It’s an rarity, but the kids’ spring breaks happened to fall on the same week, so it was a no brainer to have Liam, Elsa and the kids visit.

Out of the corner of her eye, Emma can see them all playing monopoly. Killian is grudgingly allowing the little ones to win and while they cheer and gloat, he pouts like the sore loser that he is.

It makes Emma smile just watching him be his dorkiest self when his around all the kids. Elsa is playing as well, she’s _supposed_ to be in Killian’s team, but by the look of cheer glee on her face when Killian loses yet _another_ property to one of her sons, Emma knows she’s enjoying his loses far more than she should.

“She always knew, you know?”

Emma startles when Liam’s comment comes out of nowhere. She sits straighter on the couch, looking over to see him taking a seat beside her.

“What did you say?” She asks him, frowning before she can stop herself.

It annoys her when Liam takes his sweet time before replying. The bastard doesn’t even bother looking at her.

Emma has to try her best to contain the groan of exasperation —the eye roll too. She loves Liam, all right, but sometimes he’s insufferable and they both know it.

“Elsa always knew you and my brother were going to end up together.”

Emma looks over again where Elsa and Killian are playing with the kids and just stares. It’s usually easier to hang out with Liam when Elsa or Killian are in the room with them and act as a buffer between them. Not that they don’t get along or anything, they are _family_ after all, but—

There’s still something in the way Liam looks at her sometimes, the way he gets so serious sometimes just _studying her_ , that unnerves Emma.

Deep down inside she thinks maybe Liam still doesn’t completely approve of her for his brother.

She wouldn’t blame him for it, honestly, but that doesn’t mean she has to love it either when he looks at her as though he’s sure she’s going to bolt the second things get hard with Daisy and Killian.

Or maybe not. Maybe that’s not the case at all. Maybe Emma is just paranoid and she should stop it.

“How would she know?”

Liam shrugs at her question, turning to look at her this time. “She just did.” He tells her. “To be honest, I believe I did too.”

Emma looks at him incredulously —no way that’s the truth. “Liam.”

“Aye, I mean it.” He insists. “The way my brother used to talk about you —even before my little niece came along. He would ramble on forever about this lass neither Elsa nor I knew, yet he thought the world of and would not shut up about her.”

Emma can’t stop the blush from creeping to her cheeks. It’s not every day she gets to hear Liam talking to her like this. It takes a lot, but she still forces herself not to look away from him.

“You’re not going to follow that by saying I’m not worth your little brother right?” Emma asks him, only half playfully. “Because it’s been years Liam. I may not gush about Killian to everyone the way he does about me and Daisy, but I care about him and if you thin—”

“I was not planning to follow up that comment with any of that.”

“Oh.” Emma says, frowning for a second before she makes herself relax. “All right, okay, okay, I’m —well, I’m glad you aren’t.”

“Aye.” He nods. “I won’t deny it took a while to see in you everything my brother did since he met you, but,” he pauses, and Emma is pretty sure he’s doing it just to create suspense and make her nervous — _more_ nervous. “But I have now lass,” he admits, and Emma feels like she can breathe easily again. “You’re good for my brother; I can see how much you care for him _and_ love him. For that, I do thank you, Emma.”

She’s at a loss of words, but still manages a nod. “Uh, thank you, Liam.”

He nods too, offhandedly, as though is not really that big of a deal. He reaches for his cup of tea in front of him then, casual as ever.

Emma follows suit, mechanically reaching for her own mug of steaming hot tea and bringing it up to her lips. They drink in mostly comfortable silence for a while until Emma catches his eye out of the corner of hers.

“What?”

She shrugs. “Can I make a confession?” She says then quietly. “I mean, since you’re being all honest and open and—”

“What? What is it?”

Emma maintains the silence for a beat or two more (just to mess with him, really) but then speaks. “I truly _hate_ tea, you know?” She says, before immediately bursting out laughing when the sip of tea Liam had just taken comes spilling out of his mouth just like that. “It’s…leafy, it’s horrible!” She says as Liam deals with a massive cough fit.

She giggles watching him, but is mindful enough to take his cup of tea from his hands while he attempts to stop choking.

“Everything all right over there with you two?”

Emma plasters to her face the most innocent smile she can muster as she looks over at Killian. “Yeah!” She chirps, before nudging Liam. “Right?”

He’s still coughing and trying not to die, but manages a, “ _Yes, brother_ ” in Killian’s direction as well.

Killian doesn’t look convinced, but he still nods at the pair of them before turning back to his game with Elsa and the kids.

Elsa also turned to look what was happening, but unlike Killian, the silly smile on her face tells Emma she knows exactly what’s been going on and more importantly, she approves.

“It’s probably about time you and I properly bonded, Liam.” Emma tells him after a moment, her tone playful, yet her words not a complete lie.

He’s half-glaring at her, but Emma takes it as a win when he does nod at her eventually.

— ღ   —

They finish their cups of tea, Emma complaining about the taste almost the entire time while also making him promise he’ll let her prep him the best cup of hot cocoa he will ever try tomorrow for breakfast.

It’s easy conversation for a while until Killian and Elsa decide it’s been enough bickering over Monopoly money and together the two of them wrangle all the kids upstairs to brush teeth and get in their jammies.

Liam and Emma volunteered their help, but apparently, Killian and Elsa also think it’s important they bond some more by themselves.

Emma’s mind drifts as soon as they are alone though. Her thoughts are miles away; her eyes trained on the steps Killian and the kids disappeared only a few minutes ago.

“What are you thinking?”

Emma’s quiet for a moment longer, her eyes still on the steps as she replies. “Do you think he’s forgiven me?”

“Killian you mean?”

Emma nods, still refusing to look at Liam fully. “Yeah, do you think he has?”

“Yes.”

The promptness of his answer has her turning to him quickly. “ _Yes_? Just like that? You don’t even have to think about it?”

“No,” Liam replies easily. “I know my brother, I know you; I’ve seen you two and Daisy for years. He’s forgiven you.” He says, his words slow and serious. “I truly believe it.”

Emma can only watch him long while after that. She can’t think what to say back —she can’t say that she disagrees, but agreeing seems arrogant on her part somehow.

“What about you lass?”

“What about me?”

“Have you forgiven yourself?”

The question is not one she wants to think about at all —much less one she actually wants to reply aloud. So she doesn’t.

Emma just stares at Liam for the longest time until he sighs, shaking his head knowingly. “I’ll take that as a no, then.”

“No, no —it’s…it’s not that, actually.” She tells him. “It’s, well, it’s not that simple. It’s….”

“Complicated?”

Emma nods although complicated doesn’t quite cover it either.

 “Aye, fair enough.” He says. “Let me ask you this then, have you accepted the fact that you can’t change it? That you can only look forward?”

It’s funny how the question alone immediately brings vivid memories of a long forgotten memory.

She hasn’t thought about that day in years, but maybe it’s fitting that it happened right now.

“You know, when Daisy was…about three years old, three and a half maybe, she woke up one morning completely out of it. She didn’t have a fever; she wasn’t complaining about pain or anything, she was just not herself that morning. We didn’t know what was wrong with her, but Killian and I, we still worried a lot about her that day.”

“Okay…” Liam drawls out slowly, and Emma knows she threw him off by seemingly changing the subject like this.

She has a point though.

“I can’t recall anything being wrong with the lass when she was that young—“

“Oh, it ended up being nothing,” Emma assures him quickly. “By noon that same day she perked up and was back to normal without us even having to do anything.”

Liam looks at her seriously; processing her words, trying to understand where she’s going with this. “All right, what happened then?”

“Well, at some point we decided to call the nurses line since we weren’t sure what do to. We didn’t know if we should rush her to the ER? Take her to urgent care? Or just wait it out at home? We didn’t know so we decided to make the call at least. I remember carrying Daisy to our bedroom while Killian took the house phone and went downstairs to make the call.” Emma recalls. “Daisy was barely reacting to anything we did. Her eyes were closed but she wasn’t sleeping. I remember her tightly clutching her favorite blanket and sucking her thumb. When Killian came back after making the call, he said we should just keep an eye on her for the next few hours, make sure she was drinking enough water even if she didn’t eat, and if nothing changed to take her to see her doctor in the afternoon. It never came to that but the reason I’m telling you all this, is because there was this moment a few hours later. I stayed with Daisy the whole time. I couldn’t move from her side while she was like that, I was so worried, I didn’t want her out of my sight even for a moment so I just sat by her on the bed for hours.”

Liam is looking at her through narrowed eyes, as though silently doubting she even knows where she’s going with all this.

“You asked me if I’ve forgiven myself for not being there for her at first, right?”

“Aye.”

“Well, I don’t know if it was forgiveness or what, but that morning was a turning point for me. I don’t think I’ll ever stop regretting not being there for my kid that first year, but that morning I think I did accept the fact that I couldn’t change the past and that I was better off not dwelling on it so much.”

“What exactly happened lass? What made you realize that? That she was sick?”

Emma shakes her head. “No, not at all, I had seen Daisy sick before then.”

“Then what was it?”

She takes a moment before replying, conjuring in her head those memories. Reliving that day in her mind. “At one point that morning, _out of nowhere_ , Daisy opened her eyes for just a moment; she looked at me right in my eyes, stopped sucking on her thumb, and said, _“you’re my mommy. You really love me”_ and that was it. She didn’t say more, she didn’t even give me a chance to agree before she put her thumb back in her mouth and closed her eyes. It was as if nothing had happened, I’m pretty sure she didn’t even remember it afterwards.” Emma tells him. “I remember just looking at her after that with a knot in my throat, almost crying for the longest time. I remember your brother walking back in the room after a while, asking me what was wrong and I just chalked it up to being worried, but like —to me, _that moment_ , as brief and surreal as it was, it was Daisy properly accepting me —despite everything.”

Emma knows she probably sounds crazy to Liam. She hadn’t thought about that morning with Daisy in such a long time, but now that she is, now that she can almost see her little girl as tiny as she was back then, she can’t help the need to share it with him.

“That moment changed things for me.” Emma carries on. “I saw my little girl, sick as a dog, yet she knew that I loved her. She knew I wasn’t going anywhere and…it made me realize maybe I wasn’t so horrible at this mom thing after all.” She shrugs, shyly, at last shifting her eyes from Liam’s. “I may not be super mom every day, but my kid loves me and I love her back, and I think that’s what matters, no?”

When Liam doesn’t reply immediately, Emma turns to meet his eyes. She’s a little surprised when she finds him smiling at her. “You think I’m delusional?”

“On the contrary, lass.” Liam says. “I think you’re right. I think my niece is rather lucky to have you as a mum.”

“You mean that?”

“Aye.”

Emma holds his stare for a beat or two before she nods. “Thank you,” she says. “So I really don’t know if I’ve forgiven myself or not, but I do know my daughter and her dad are my life and I wouldn’t change that for anything.”

“I’m glad to hear that Emma.”

She meets his eye again, tries like hell to mimic the way _he_ stares at her and studies her so often when he visits, and then just blurts. “Have I won you over now for good, you think?”

Liam cracks a smile, but it’s a small one and Emma knows he’s trying hard not to show it that he likes her too much.

It makes her grin. “You don’t even have to say it, Liam, I know I have.”

He shakes his head, rolling his eyes but not contradicting her just yet. “You’re a bloody pain in the ass, lass, you know this, right?”

Emma’s grin widens. She reaches for her tea then and takes a healthy sip despite how much she still hates the taste. “Yup,” she replies. “We’re family though so I’m afraid you’re just gonna have to suck it up.”

“Aye aye, I suppose I do.” He says with much annoyance that Emma knows it’s hardly heartfelt.

“Thank you though, Liam.”

“What for?”

Emma shrugs. “Just for always supporting Killian.” She tells him and she means it dearly. “You and Elsa were there for him and Daisy when I wasn’t, and that, well, it means everything to me.”

“Aye, lass.” He says, nodding slowly. “Well, as you said, we are family, that’s what family is for.”

“Yeah,” Emma agrees softly. “I’m glad it all worked out.”

“Me too, lass.” Liam says and Emma knows he means it as well. “Me too.”

— ღ   —

They marry (formally, at last) the summer after Daisy turns ten. It’s a small-ish ceremony, mainly their families, their closest friends and their plus ones (or plus fives, sometimes).  

It’s a mutual decision —to marry when they do that is.

They are happy, hopelessly in love and suddenly it feels right that they make it official.

For years, it felt like going through the whole thing was too much —it was getting paperwork, marriage licenses, wedding planning, and what not. It never felt like the right time to take on so much.

 

Killian proposed way back when Daisy was four, around Christmas time. His plan consisted in a perfect engagement ring neatly wrapped under the Christmas tree. He’d hoped to propose Christmas morning, hoped to surprise her greatly and take her breath away with his dashing proposal.

One random December morning though, while they were still in bed eating their daily advent calendar chocolate with Daisy, Killian decided he was done waiting and needed to do it on the spot.

He excused himself, went to grab the present from his sock drawer (already perfectly wrapped of course) and brought it back to bed with him.

Emma admitted days later that she’d seen the box with the ring weeks before, before he even wrapped it, but had refused to ruin the surprise. It had still taken her breath away to have him suddenly propose as he did. It wasn’t an elaborated gesture; it was them and their daughter in bed, messy bed hair, and chocolate still in their mouths. He handed her the square shaped present quietly, smiling at her hopefully and sincerely. Emma had had tears in her eyes almost immediately.

Daisy had cheered and squealed when Emma said yes despite hardly understanding what was going on exactly.

For years, (six almost) Emma wore an engagement ring on her left hand. The time was never right and the truth was that neither needed to make their family more official than it already was. They loved each other and they were together raising their daughter, that was truly all that mattered most days.

It is still exciting when they finally _do_ get their act together and _do it,_ formally. At last.

It’s an oddity to Daisy when they tell her about it happening _now_ though. She’s never known anything other than her parents being together and loving and happy, and yet suddenly there are all these preparations so that they can get _married._

She doesn’t quite complain about any of it though —at all. She enjoys the whole thing greatly. She accompanies Emma wedding dress shopping, she helps them taste and pick the wedding cake, she’s delighted when they choose _daisies_ as the main flower to decorate the party venue.

It becomes a family affair, this wedding.

It’s also somehow everything they ever could have hoped for.

— ღ   —

They take a three-week long honeymoon. They’ve been together for almost ten years and it just seems right to truly and properly celebrate it.

They visit Australia of all places and it turns out to be an almost magical experience. They enjoy the sandiest whitest beaches, bluest oceans, never mind an actual kangaroo island they vow to return to with Daisy one day.

It’s the perfect honeymoon, but it is also the first time they are away from their kid for so long and that part sucked.

They do make it a point to facetime at least once a day and that helped. No matter the odd hours, they managed to see their kid daily and that made the distance bearable.

Not surprisingly, coming home to Daisy is almost just as magical as all the fun and alone time they enjoyed during their honeymoon.

They are family and as that, they simply have to stick together.

 

Not a lot _really_ changes after the wedding though —they still live in the same house, they still go to the same jobs every day, they still have their kid, and while Emma now wears a second ring, and Killian wears the one on his ring finger, things are…like always.

It’s probably why it is especially shocking when Emma does turn up pregnant a few months later. It’s very much a surprise despite the fact that they never stopped trying. With the years passing it did become a little of an afterthought though —they never stopped wanting it, but they never stopped living their lives either because they weren’t getting pregnant. Their lives continued, the seasons passed, so Emma nearly fell off her chair when she realized she was late.  

They were next door at the Nolan’s house, having supper with them; Daisy and Leo wreaking havoc upstairs, while the adults shared a drink and chatted in the kitchen. Emma was sitting on one of the kitchen’s stools, her elbows on the counter as she watched Mary Margaret mixing this thing or the other for her specialty veggie dip. David and Killian had just clicked their drinks together after agreeing the new guy coaching the kids’ soccer team was a joke when it just—

It _hit her._

She couldn’t stop herself from gasping, her elbows falling to her sides, her balance gone making her almost tip over the stool she was sitting on.

Killian had been at her side almost immediately. “Are you all right love?”

Emma had assured him quickly that she was. There was no way she was going to start discussing _that_ particular topic while in the middle of their best friends’ kitchen.

She brushed it off for the rest of the evening, and if Killian noticed that she stopped touching her wine after that moment, he didn’t say.

That night however, right after Daisy went to sleep and they’d closed their bedroom door, Killian cut straight to the chase. “Emm–”

“I’m _late,_ I think,” Emma told him right away.

It didn’t hit him right away, at all; he looked at her with much confusion until Emma stepped closer to him and spoke again. “Today when we were next door, I was just thinking, and…I don’t know, okay? This could be nothing at all, but…I’m late.”

And _then,_ he finally did get what she was saying. “Oh”

— ღ   —

They decide it’s best if they find out for sure if Emma’s late period means nothing (or something. Something _huge)_ right away.

Emma stays behind with Daisy, while Killian runs to the store to get the tests.

They used to keep many in the house once upon a time. A huge variety of brands and types, and yet they never came to a point where they had to actually use them before.

One spring Emma had gotten rid of them all and that had been it. It was a cruel reminder to see all those tests under her sink, unused given nothing ever happened.

Still, this time is different and she’s looking forward to see Killian walk back with one of those boxes in his hands.

She’s trying to convince herself that this is probably nothing. She’s _failing_ to convince herself of such, but she’s still trying.

Getting her hopes up is a dangerous game, but anyway, why if she’s not?

What if it’s finally happening?

What if that fourth Christmas stocking she’s kept in her closet for _years_ is finally going to be needed?

What if they haven’t kept all of Daisy’s baby clothes and toys for nothing?

What if—

“I’m back, love.”

She smiles easily at Killian then. He playfully meets her eyes, the pharmacy baggy dangling in his hand.

— ღ   —

She takes the test and then one more before she steps out of the bathroom.

Killian’s sitting on the bed, looking at her with wide excited eyes.

It’s bittersweet to see him like that. Emma can’t help her heart aching to see him so happy and excited at just the odd _possibility_ that she’s pregnant and they’re having another baby.

It makes her love him more too though, so not everything’s bad.

“Remember the other night?”

“Which night?” She asks him as she sits beside him on their bed.

Killian’s arm wraps around her waist, bringing her closer to him before he speaks. “You turned your nose up at my mackerel the other night, you remember?”

Emma rolls her eyes at that one. “That fish was _disgusting!”_ She tells him pointedly. “I have no idea how you expected Daisy and I to eat _that!_ It was _gross_ Killian!”

He laughs, playfully burying his nose in her neck. “It’s not, it’s delicious and healthy, and if you’re pregnant we should have it at least once a week.” He says, tilting his head to look at her face. “I’ll have you know; in moderation all those healthy fats are good for growing babies.”

Emma indulges him with a nod of her head and a smile. She shifts so that she can cup his jaw in her hand and stare into his eyes fully. She doesn’t tell him that she loves him right then, but she thinks he knows it all the same.

“I may not even be pregnant, you know?”

The twinkle in his eyes doesn’t fade, nor does the smile on his face. “I know, love.” He tells her softly. “You may _be_ though. I’ve hope!” He declares, grinning that grin that renders Emma speechless —and helpless, definitely helpless too.

“I love you.”

“And I, you, my love.” Killian promises. He shifts, sitting up a little more properly now so that now it’s him that’s cupping her face in his hands. He makes it a point to lock his eyes with hers before dreamily smiling at her. “A little pirate in you again, it’ll be nice, eh?”

She nods. She can’t possibly deny him this. The amount of love and _hope_ in his eyes is beyond anything Emma’s ever experienced before. His love is so open and pure. Always is.

“Why a _pirate,_ though? Why not, I don’t know, a little prince? A little wizard maybe?”

“No no, Swan,” he insists playfully. “Everybody knows pirates are better than wizards.”

She just looks at him incredulously and he laughs. “They are,” he tells her. “And anyway, we are putting together our production of Peter Pan with Daisy’s class; I guess you could say I have pirates on the brain, all right?”

Emma giggles, unable to resist him. “You do know Captain Hook isn’t really the hero, right? Even if he’s your favorite, Peter Pan is the actual hero of that tale.”

“Nonsense Swan,” Killian replies, rolling his eyes. “That demon child kidnapping other children is far from a hero.”

Again Emma can’t contain a giggle, but she still indulges him with a nod. “If you insist.”

“I do.”

She kisses him, softly and for a long moment. She’s not any less nervous about checking that test than she was ten minutes ago, but in spite of the nerves, she can’t be more thankful the man at her side is Killian.

Even if she’s not pregnant tonight, even if they have to continue trying, or even if it just doesn’t happen, Emma still knows they’ll be okay. She has him and he has her. They have their daughter and they have each other.

They’ll be okay even if she’s not pregnant tonight. That knowledge alone brings her much needed peace.

She opens her eyes first, sighing. “I should go check.”

“Aye,” Killian agrees simply. He kisses her softly just once more before he pulls back.

Before Emma’s all the way to her feet however, Killian reaches for her wrist and stops her.

“What is it?”

“I just want you to know that no matter what happens, if that test is positive or not, I want you to know that I think we’ll be okay either way, love.” He says. “I love our lives as they are. I’ll be bloody happy if you are pregnant but I’ll continue to be just as happy with you and Daisy even if you’re not.”

Emma has to fight back the tears that immediately pool in her eyes. She doesn’t reply, but does lean in closer to kiss him one more time.

She already knew everything he said, but still hearing it makes her even surer of her belief that they are going to be okay, no matter what the future brings.

“I will always, always be by your side, love; we’ll be all right…no matter what…”

“Thank you,” she tells him, smiling at the easy way he grins back at her. “Can I go check now though?”

He doesn’t reply for another moment, but then he breathes out deeply and nods. “Yes, please do, my love.”

— ღ   —

It’s positive.

They properly confirm it two days later, Emma gets the bloodwork done, and within 48 hours, she gets the call that confirms what they already knew.

It’s surreal to _finally_ be dealing with this part together. They never did, not really. Back when she was pregnant with Daisy, Emma dealt with everything on her own for the first few months. She didn’t even tell him about it until she was almost half way through the whole pregnancy and even then, she continued to try to deal with it all by herself.

This time they are together through everything, from the start.

It’s surreal.

But also kind of awesome.

Emma catches him staring at her stomach the same night they receive the phone call from the doctors. He doesn’t even notice her staring his way, his eyes strongly fixated on her middle. He can’t look away from her and Emma can’t look away from _him._

She thinks about the hundred and one things that are going through his mind. She’s caught herself inadvertently daydreaming about their future already too; wondering how the next few months are going to be, trying hard to imagine it, so she understands what he’s probably thinking.

It hits her suddenly how much love is waiting for this baby already.

They’ve been waiting a very long time for this; waiting and hoping and praying to a God that neither is sure they believe in for this baby and its health. They still did it all, and they are still doing it. They are still hoping against hope everything is all right with the little bean.

With the little baby that they are yet to meet and still love so completely already.

— ღ   —

They don’t tell anyone at first.

Not even Daisy.

They make it to their first ultrasound, more bloodwork, and then even to a second ultrasound with everything still looking perfect. With their baby still growing as it should and that flicker of hope in their hearts growing bigger and stronger every day as well.

They worry a little less each day and that’s something.

Emma still tells him they ought to wait a few more weeks before sharing the news with Daisy, or anyone else, really. She’s still cautious —cautiously optimistic she tells him, but still cautious.

Killian respects that. He respects each and every decision she makes regarding this pregnancy.

She’s determined to maintain as much normalcy and sanity as she can through this, and he’s determined to help her achieve as much.

He tells her it’s the least he can do, and it truly is. She’s the one growing his child after all. She’s the one dealing with her very own body going through the motions. She’s the one dealing with the nausea, the exhaustion, the soreness, the heartburn, and even the insomnia —she’s doing it _all_.

So if Emma says she wants to wait to tell people, wait to tell their daughter even, then Killian will support that decision wholeheartedly.

— ღ   —

Despite their best intentions, Daisy starts getting suspicious a few weeks later.

Their little girl is young, but incredibly smart all the same, and it doesn’t take her long to realize they aren’t telling her something.

They come home one evening to find Emma passed out on the couch. The sight is not even that unusual anymore that Daisy mainly chuckles, gives him a funny look, and then continues on her way upstairs to change out of her uniform.

Emma has been especially exhausted lately and long afternoon naps seem to be a necessity.

It’s what she needs, and anyway, Killian finds her adorable all curled up in the couch, asleep without a single care in the world.

He doesn’t wake her, merely kisses her cheek on his way to the kitchen.

He’s in the middle of prepping breakfast for dinner (Emma’s favorite as of late) when Daisy walks into the kitchen, cleaned up and changed into fresh pajamas.

Killian smiles at her over his shoulder. He takes a rag from the counter, and wipes his hands as he turns to her. “Finally decide to come help your old man?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Daisy says, shaking her head playfully. She climbs onto the counter across from him and just watches Killian for a little while before asking, “Is mom okay, dad?”

“Mm,” he hums confused, moving to turn down the heat on the stove before looking at Daisy once more. “Why are you asking?”

Daisy shrugs.

Killian doesn’t shift his eyes from hers —waits until she gives up and sighs. “She was sleeping when we came home,” she says. “ _Again._ I think she’s sick, she’s been puking a lot too, it’s disgusting.”

“Daisy,” Killian gives her a look. “Mum’s been a bit under the weather; sure, but she’s not precisely sick.”

“Then why does she keep _getting sick_?”

Ah, _good_ question.  

Now it’s Killian who sighs —their daughter is anything if not clever. It really was only a matter of time before she became curious about her mum’s behavior recently. “She’s not _ill_ love, I swear.”

Daisy is obviously taking his words with a grain of salt, but still nods. “Okay,” she shrugs, looking away from him. “What’s for dinner?”

Killian watches her for a beat —that determined look on her face that is so cleverly hiding the fear behind her eyes. He turns to flip the pancakes one last time before turning off the heat and then giving Daisy his full attention. “You know, you’re right, mum hasn’t been feeling great —she’s had some stomach sickness and it’s been taking a toll on her.”

Daisy just stares at him strongly —listening with care.

“It’s hard to sleep at night when your stomach is churning non-stop so that’s why we’ve found her taking naps in the afternoon so much, that makes sense to you?”

“I guess,” she answers with another shrug.

“You’ve nothing to worry about though, Daisy —mum’s sickness _will_ pass, we just have to be a little patient with her.” He assures her. “Perhaps you can also give her extra cuddles though —your mum adores those from you.”

His words make her smile, even when she also rolls her eyes. “Okay, fine dad,” she says, letting out a long breath. “I hope we don’t get sick too though,” she adds then as an afterthought. Killian looks at her, narrowing his eyes slightly. “That would _suck_ , I hate throwing up so much!” She exclaims, just in time as Emma’s sleepy self is walking into the kitchen.

“That makes two of us,” Emma chimes in, breaking Killian and Daisy from their moment. They both turn to her with matching wide blue eyes, making her laugh. “So what did I miss? Why are we talking about throwing up?”

Daisy laughs, hopping off the counter and moving to Emma. She wraps her arms around her middle and smiles up at her. “Cause daddy and me are scared you’re going to make us sick like you,” she tells Emma oh so honestly. “Hi mommy.”

“Hi sweetie,” Emma coos, cupping Daisy’s round little face in her hands and smiling fully. “You had a good day at school?”

Daisy nods.

“Good, I’m glad.”

Daisy leans into her, nodding and hugging Emma tight. She breathes deeply against her, while Emma’s fingers reach up into her hair. “I missed you,” Daisy whispers then.

Killian’s watching them and notices the exact moment Emma’s heart melts and her eyes begin to pool with tears before she can stop them.

She squeezes her eyes tight, breathing deeply before she leans down and kisses the top of Daisy’s head. “I missed you too cutie.”

Daisy beams up at her. “Daddy is making pancakes for dinner.”

“Ah, is he?” She asks, looking up to meet his eyes.

“Aye love.”

“Good,” she says. “My favorite.”

“Yah, mine too!” Daisy nods, smiling sweetly at Emma. “Don’t you go getting sick though! That’d be gross mama!”

And there’s their sassy little girl. Emma looks up at Killian again and they smile at each other knowingly. She’s still smiling when she looks down at Daisy again. “Fine, fine, I’ll try my best, okay?”

Daisy chuckles. “Okay.”

— ღ   —

They pick Daisy up together after soccer practice one afternoon a couple of days later. It’s Thursday, so just about the weekend, yet not quite and the kid is beyond exhausted. She falls asleep in the car shortly after hopping in. She mumbles something about scoring only a couple goals and _‘how unfair Madison being on the other team with Serena’_ is to her, before her head starts bopping and she quickly falls asleep.

They decided earlier that today was the day —no more delaying sharing the news with Daisy so even though it takes them a bit to wake her up, they carry on with their plan.

“We’re home?” Daisy asks sleepily.

Emma’s in the backseat, gently shaking her awake. She smiles at Daisy. “We are at the store actually, babe.”

Daisy sighs, shaking her head and leaning back on her seat. “I’m sleepy,” she reminds Emma needlessly, rubbing at her eyes.

Emma tilts her head, stroking Daisy’s hair back for a moment. “Come on, we gotta pick up just a couple of things, okay?”

Daisy is not happy about it, but she still nods.

She unbuckles her seatbelt and slowly gets out of the car. Her dad’s waiting for her at the curb, and Daisy doesn’t hesitate to cuddle into his side when she reaches him.

Killian kisses the top of her bed while Emma catches up with them, and together they walk into the store. They start walking the aisles, quietly. Daisy is still too drowsy to care where they are so they simply walk for a bit.

It takes Daisy some good ten minutes before she blinks a few too many times and pushes from Killian’s side, looking around the store. “Where are we again?”

They both turn to her. “At the store, love.”

Daisy rolls her eyes. “Yeah, I got that,” she tells him, slightly annoyed. “But is just… _baby things?_ ” She asks, looking around the place.

Emma shrugs. “Well, it’s a baby store, kid.”

Daisy sighs again —as though dealing with the two of them right now is a bit much for her. “Do we need to buy a present?”

“Um, yeah,” Emma nods. “Figured we could pick up a thing or two, what do you think?”

Daisy shrugs. She looks around at all the pastel colors, at all the tiny little clothes hanging around her. Emma manages to catch a tiny little smile on her face before she’s off to wander the different aisles herself.

Killian moves to Emma’s side then, wrapping an arm around her waist and smiling goofily.

Emma chuckles, she can’t help it. “Shush it, she’s going to figure it out,” she huffs at him, only making his stupid goofy grin grow.

Before they can say more, Daisy’s interrupts them. “Hey mom!”

“Um?”

“Is the present for a boy or a girl?”

“Uh.”

“We don’t know yet,” Killian replies when Emma’s mouth hangs open and she’s seemingly floundering.

She nods at Killian’s words in any case. “Yeah, that’s right,” she agrees looking at Daisy. “How about you pick one thing for a baby boy and then one for a baby girl?”

Daisy only thinks about it for a moment before nodding and dashing right back to find the perfect gifts.

“How long until we know?”

“A couple weeks or so?” Emma tells Killian with a shrug. “Haven’t booked the appointment yet.”

“Hum,” Killian mumbles, idly stroking her lower back. “How come?” He asks after a moment.

“Depending how today goes, Daisy may want to tag along or not —I’ll book the appointment after school if she wants to come with…”

“Ah, right,” he nods, scratching his head for a moment. “Emma.”

“Um?”

“You want to know what I think?”

“Hm, yeah, sure.”

“I think it’s a little girl this time around as well.”

His serious tone makes her laugh — _really_ laugh. So much so that Daisy even turns to look their way and smiles in that way that says ‘ _my parents are nuts, but I still love them.”_

“How do you know?”

Killian shrugs, although he’s looking overly smug. “I just think so; you can call it intuition if you want, love…”

Emma looks at him faking disbelief until he cracks. He breathes out a laugh before saying, “Your belly is kind of the same as when you were pregnant with Daisy —don’t they say that has something to do?”

Emma is quiet at his words however —she hasn’t actually compared the pregnancies much. Maybe a lot because she really doesn’t remember much, it’s been over ten years since then after all, but maybe also because back then she made her darnest best not to focus on the changes her body was going through.

“Do you remember a lot?”

“Aye,” he says, chinning up with pride.

It makes her smile, despite everything. “Back then I had such a hard time swallowing the fact that I was going to be a dad, it was only when I saw you, when I saw your belly in passing that it would feel _real,_ you know?”

She nods, her smile sad, aching for all those months they spent apart back then.

“Every time I’d see you, I’d memorize as much about you as I could.”

She knows they can’t change it, she even thinks perhaps that was just the way it had to be so that they could become the people (the couple) they are these days, but it still makes her heart ache a little. She can’t deny that.

“You have no idea how bloody brilliant it is to get to see you _every day_ this time around, Swan. See the way your belly is growing, it’s an actual wee human, you know? And _you_ are growing it, love…it’s marvelous — _you are marvelous…”_

Emma laughs, can’t even hide her blushing cheeks from him if she tried. There’s still something she needs to tell him though. “I am sorry about back then, Killian, you know that, right?”

He frowns, quickly shaking his head at her words. “You need not be, love,” he assures her, easily. “We’ve done much growing and changing since then, it’s all alright,” he tells her, ducking his head slightly, making sure she’s meeting his eyes. “I’ve made my peace with it all, you know this.”

Emma nods, she does know. “I love you.”

“Ah,” Killian beams, playfully. “Music to this man’s ears, Swan.”

Emma chuckles, yet before she can say more, they are interrupted once more by their daughter. “Look at this one mommy! Isn’t it _so cute?”_ Daisy gushes, thrusting in Emma’s hands the cutest little newborn set.

Emma grabs it from Daisy, lifting it up in front of them so that Killian can see it too. It’s the most delicate _(and tiny)_ white dress Emma’s ever seen. It’s darling, little pink polka dots all over, complete with adorable bloomers and a light pink teeny cardigan. It’s most definitely an outfit for a little baby girl and Emma can’t help but look up at Killian with a knowing smile on her face.

“It’s adorable Daisy.”

“Right?!” Daisy grins. “Boy things aren’t _as adorable_ , but I think this one is very cute too,” she says then, handing Killian the baby boy outfit she picked out.

It’s essentially a miniature grown up outfit; itty bitty seersucker light blue shorts with a simple white dressy top, and while it’s definitely not as cute as the adorable girl outfit she picked out, it is still perfectly cute and Emma can’t stop herself from picturing a tiny little baby boy that would look so much like Killian in it.

She stops her brain from getting too far ahead with that thought and instead just smiles and compliments Daisy on her finds again.

— ღ   —

They pay for the clothes shortly after that, Killian and Daisy making easy small talk as Emma deals with the cashier getting her items sorted.

It’s not until they stepped out of the shop and are walking toward the car that Daisy frowns and stops in her tracks. “Who’s this for anyway?”

“Why, but for a baby of course, Daisy.”

“Ugh,” Daisy looks at Killian as though he’s stupid and rolls her eyes at him. “Of course it is, but for which baby, dad?”

“Ah,” he lets out, playfully scratching at the scruff on his chin. “Well, it’s for a little one that hasn’t been born just yet…”

Daisy nods at him, not quite satisfied with his answer. “Do I know the mom?”

“Yup,” Emma answers at the same time as Killian nods and says, “Aye, you do.”

Daisy smiles a little —and Emma knows she’s sensed the challenge for her to guess here. “Is one of your friends, mommy?”

“Nope.”

“Um,” Daisy thinks, then turns to Killian. “Aunty Elsa?”

“That would be a no as well.”

Daisy’s lips purse. “One of your friends then, daddy?”

“No.”

Daisy sighs, almost pouting. “Can I even know? Why is it a secret?”

“It’s not a secret, sweetie,” Emma assures her quickly then. She gives Killian the bag with the baby clothes, and moves closer to Daisy. She cups her little face and works on giving her a smile. “Your daddy and I just didn’t really know how to tell you.”

Daisy frowns —quickly looking up to see Killian’s eyes on her as well. “What do you mean? Tell me what?”

Emma shrugs, thumbs running over Daisy’s cheeks slowly. “The baby gifts we got _are_ for a baby, just…not for someone else’s baby.”

Given the frown on her face, Daisy still isn’t there.

“You’re a smart lass, Daisy —think about it, we got gifts for a babe; a babe that isn’t born yet but you know its parents very very well. A baby that isn’t anybody else’s and guess what? A tiny babe that may just occupy that empty little room next to your bedroom…”

Daisy’s frown doesn’t lessen at his words in any case —if anything, it deepens before she shakes her head stubbornly. “No”

“No what darling?”

“No —wait, _no_ ,” Daisy shakes her head again, pulls back from Emma and does to move toward the car. She barely makes it two steps ahead of them, before she stops. She takes a moment, her head bowed down.

Killian and Emma don’t move or say words —they stay right where they are and give her the space she needs.

Daisy continues to shake her head slightly, but when she does look at them over her shoulder and her lower lip trembles, Emma decides it’s enough and she moves to her kid, wrapping her arms tightly around her. “Hey, shush, you’re okay,” Emma coos when Daisy starts crying in her arms suddenly.

They are still in the middle of the parking lot but for whatever reason it all disappears and it’s just them in that moment. Killian steps in closer as well, wrapping her arms around them both.

Daisy hiccups in Emma’s arms, burying her little face in her chest as best as she can manage.

“Daisy, mum and I—”

“Are _you_ having the baby?” She cuts Killian off, her eyes strongly fixed on Emma’s.

Killian doesn’t take the interruption personally, and instead just watches them as Emma responds.

She nods; grabbing Daisy’s trembling chin in her hand, and smiling. “Little bean is cooking in my tummy as we speak,” she says and the chuckle that escapes her then is watery but also blissfully happy when Daisy smiles through the tears that are still burning in her eyes. “You get to finally be a big sister sweet girl.” And though she’s still smiling, Emma’s words do it and Daisy begins properly crying again.

Emma holds her tight against her and kisses the top of her head. The moment drags for just a little while; Daisy’s tears slowly but surely stopping.

Emma sees her breathing deeply, reeling in her emotions as best as she can. She smiles, pride swelling up in her chest.

“Feel better darling?” Killian asks her then.

Daisy looks up from Emma’s hold and right into her father’s eyes. She gives him a trembling nod.

“Aye, that’s good,” Killian nods, cupping her little face in his hand and bringing her closer into _his_ embrace. “Ask mum, dad also melted down when we learned about the wee baby. You aren’t alone sweetheart, these are pretty big news for us all…”

Daisy laughs a watery laugh at that.

Emma smiles at them —at those two that are so much alike, dealing with their big feelings in such similar ways; their hearts, and feelings always on their sleeves.

“Did he really cry mommy?”

“Mmhm,” Emma nods at Daisy. “Mom did too a little, actually.”

And for whatever reason, _that,_ makes Daisy beam. “ _You_ cried?”

Emma nods.

“Cause you are _happy_ about it?”

“Yeah,” Emma replies. “ _Very_ happy,” she adds, before looking at Daisy curiously. “What about you? Are you happy about it?”

Daisy’s eyes widen as though Emma just asked her the craziest question yet. “Of course I’m happy,” she giggles. “We’re _finally_ getting a baby!”

Emma looks over at Killian and they share a tiny, yet meaningful look. “Yes we are…”

— ღ   —

The thousands of questions do not start until they get home.

Once Daisy gets going though, there is almost not stopping her.

_“So, you think it’s going to be a girl or a boy?”_

_“When can we find out?”_

_“I hope it’s a girl, mom.”_

_“Where is she going to sleep?”_

_“She can stay in my room!”_

_“Not when she’s crying though, you can take her to your room when she’s crying!”_

_“Can I feel her move?”_

_“What are we going to name her?”_

_“When is she going to be born?”_

_“What if she’s a boy mom?”_

_“Are you going to get very very big like Miss Nolan did?”_

And on and on until it got so late that Daisy pretty much passed out on their bed. Just for tonight, Emma told Killian she wanted to keep her here with them. She wants their little girl close like this and given the smile on his face, Emma thinks he understands.

“I wager the little miss is truly excited about the babe, huh?”

Emma chuckles, looking over at Daisy, her little face flushed and snuggled against her arm. It warms her heart to see her like this, so peaceful, her breathing so steady, and that tiny hint of a smile still gracing her pouty mouth.

Emma nods at Killian; suddenly it hits her how ready she is to do this again. To love and nurture another little person every day.

It’s exciting to wonder all those very things Daisy is wondering too, will the baby be a girl again? Where are they going to set up the nursery? Will they have to go shopping for everything the baby needs or they may just be able to reuse most of Daisy’s old baby things? How big is she going to get this time? How soon will Daisy ( _and_ Killian) be able to feel the baby kick?

It _is_ exciting and somehow sharing the news with Daisy has helped Emma feel just that bit less worried about the future and everything it’ll bring.

“Yah, I think it’s safe to say she’s excited, all right?”

Killian doesn’t reply, he just chuckles and leans in kissing her. “I love you.”

Emma smiles against his mouth and nods. “Yeah, I guess I love you too.”

— ღ   —

It’s another girl.

They find out at the 20-week appointment a couple of weeks later.

Daisy skips half a day of school to make it to the appointment, and it’s worth it.

They find out as a family and as a family, they go grab celebratory ice cream cones following the appointment.

Daisy is beyond happy with the news. She declares that she already knew it was going to be a girl, and Killian agrees with her readily that he did too.

Emma just smiles a lot and laughs when the two of them start coming up with names right there on the spot.

“Clara?”

“No, what does that even mean dad?”

“It doesn’t have to _mean anything,_ it’s a name!”

“Duh! It _should_ mean something!” Daisy insists. “Right mom?”

Emma simply nods, despite the almost glare Killian throws her way.

“Lauren?”

“No.” Daisy replies quickly, and Killian moans.

He turns to look at her, but Emma has nothing for him. “Yeah, no, I hate it too.”

He chuckles, but it doesn’t take a genius to see he’s frustrated. “How about you two come up with a name, hm?”

Daisy hums, concentrating and thinking hard. “What about Juliet? Or Elsie?”

Emma just looks at her, making Daisy’s cheek blush. “Nope?”

“No, babe.”

“Ah, shucks!” Daisy mutters, but then laughs taking a huge bite from her ice cream. “This is _hard!”_

“Don’t I know it,” Killian says, meeting Emma’s eyes as she just laughs at the pair of them.

— ღ   —

In the end, they name her _Maggie_.

Little _Maggie Swan Jones._

At first, it is just a joke to continue the tradition and name their second girl after a flower too.

_“Ah, come on, Swan, are you telling me you aren’t dying to name our child Buttercup this time?”_

It’s a running joke for a few weeks —months even. So much so, both Killian and Daisy start playfully calling the bump _‘Buttercup’_

At the end of the day, or really, when they finally do get serious about it, they remind themselves that Daisy is lovingly named after Killian’s mother a little, so it makes sense they honor someone in their lives when naming their second little girl.

So the name _Maggie_ is brought up — _“After Mary Margaret, you mean?”_

_“Aye, yes love,”_ Killian told her. _“She’s been rather special to Daisy and us for several years —so…baby Margaret? Baby Mary? Baby Maggie?”_ He tried, and somehow that very same night it was a done deal.

_Especially after Killian went and told her, “Plus, don’t forget about Mar-ga–rita.”_

_Emma frowned, not quite following, “I don’t get it,” she said. “Besides, your Spanish is horrible, why are you doing that?”_

_It had made him laugh, but then his face had softened the second Emma’s eyes shifted down and she’d started stroking her belly. It got to him each time he saw her loving on their unborn child. His gaze changed, and Emma noticed, his eyes soft and full of love._

_“It’s Spanish for Daisy actually.”_

_Emma’s look had shifted with realization then too. “Really?”_

_“Aye.”_

So Maggie Swan Jones it is, and it’s perfect. They all very specially love it from the start and it just _fits_ the baby.

They give her Swan as her middle name just like Daisy —keep things consistent and all that fun.

The baby _is_ perfect when she finally is born (she’s late, late by almost _two_ weeks and it was driving Emma crazy) but then when she finally _is_ born, everything is forgotten because—

Well, because she’s _perfect._

— ღ   —

It is not smooth sailing every day after she’s born, but they manage.

She loses a little too much weight after birth so it becomes a thing to wake baby up to feed almost like clockwork every two hours during those first few weeks.

There are tears and it’s just an adjustment all around.

For all of them.

Daisy goes through every emotion during the baby’s first week home —they hear everything from _“why won’t she stop crying”_ to _“you guys ruined my life”_ to her sleepy little self going to their bedroom first thing in the morning asking for _“baby cuddles”_

The first time Daisy and the baby fall asleep at the same time, on their bed, side by side, the two of them peacefully snoring away a rainy afternoon, they realize ( _again)_ every up and down is well worth it.

— ღ   —

Maggie, it turns out, is a _bloody great_ baby —Killian’s words.

He’s extremely great with her, which surprises no one. Emma’s reminded every so often that while this is her first time caring for a newborn; Killian has done all of this before.

He never brags though. Not at all. He’s far from a know it all when it comes to Maggie, yet Emma still feels that pang of grief sometimes from everything she missed with Daisy.

Now she knows firsthand exactly what she missed and it stings.

_Sometimes_.

She still tries to be the best mom she can for both her girls.

She tries to trust her insists with the baby —most of the times she has to admit they are right.

She trusts Killian’s insists and experiences far more than she does her own though.

She expects this to pass —to at least get a little easier as Maggie grows.

She’s not in any rush exactly for this to happen (too quickly) though. There’s nothing like that milk drunk sleepy baby curled up on her chest after nursing. Or feeding her late at night when it’s just the two of them in the nursery, the baby half sleep, droopy eyelids but still working on nursing slowly.

So very slowly sometimes, but it is still one of the experiences Emma treasures the most this time around.

It takes Daisy almost a month to ask to hold the baby just because. She tells Emma she wants to do that thing she does on the recliner in the living room with Maggie, so Emma lets her.

Daisy is in _heaven_ the second Maggie curls up and snuggles sleepily on top of her.

Since that day, Emma agrees to share Maggie’s snuggles in the evening when Daisy is home from school.

Someone has to prep dinner anyway and it can’t always be Killian, can it?

— ღ   —

It’s a particular trying evening —Maggie crying unless they are holding her and Daisy coming home from school with a low fever and a tummy ache.

They both take one child —Killian goes with Daisy while Emma keeps the baby.

And it’s hard because the last thing she wants is to be away from her kid when she’s sick, but–

_“One sick baby at the time is far more preferable, love.”_

Emma agrees, but she still can’t stop her heart breaking at the sounds of Daisy crying and uncomfortable two rooms down the hallway.

It takes all she has not to go to her little girl, but she knows better.

Emma stays right where she is, in their room, cooped up with a clingy Maggie who apparently refuses to be put down and all she wants to do is nurse.

It’s not until almost ten at night that Killian finally manages to settle Daisy in her bedroom.

“She’s asleep now love…” He says, collapsing on their bed after he walks in the room.

Emma’s in the rocking chair with Maggie —feeding her and slowly humming at her as she dozes off.

Eventually, he shifts his head sideways, looking over at Emma; the second he does, she speaks softly at once. “How did you do this?”

“Um?”

Emma takes in a breath, looking down at the baby in her arms for a moment. “I don’t know how you did it back then —caring for Daisy that year, you did it all on your own…”

Killian just looks at her softly for a moment before he just shrugs. “To be quite honest with you love, most of those first months with her are truly a blur to me…”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” his eyes shift to the door, and for a moment, he’s quiet, just thinking. “I was so worried about getting _everything_ right. I had read all the books, all the pamphlets I could get my hands on, but I still had no idea what I was doing —I just knew I had to do it though.” He tells her, seriously. “I knew I couldn’t let _you or Daisy_ down —I wanted her, I wanted to be her father so I just _had_ to figure it out.” He shrugs again. “I figured if I loved her and kept her happy and alive, it’d be a win, you know?”

“Yeah…” Emma whispers quietly. He goes quiet too, his eyes focused on the ceiling, his mind probably going through some of the hundreds of memories he must have of that year on his own with Daisy.

“Thank you Killian.”

“Love.”

“No I mean it,” Emma insists. “If it hadn’t been for you —for your stubborn infuriating self, I—,” she doesn’t even want to _think_ about it. A world in which they don’t keep their daughter is just so unfathomable to her these days. She can’t even allow the thought in her mind. She shakes her head. “I can’t imagine my life without Daisy, without Maggie —without _you_ ,” she adds, smiling a tiny little smile just for him.

It makes him smile too, takes some of the gravity off the moment, and he relaxes slightly. “Good thing you don’t have to love,” Killian tells her. “These girls and I, we aren’t going anywhere — _ever_ ,” he says but then pauses. Emma looks at him knowingly. "Well, I suppose _they_ will eventually —I think secluding them at home perpetually is _slightly_ frown upon, but…you know what I mean, right?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“We are a family, Swan.”

“Yeah.”

“We love you.”

He makes her huff a little chuckle. “Yeah,” she drawls out anyway. “I kind of really like the bunch of you too.”

“Ah, good,” he replies, playfully. He gets up from the bed at once then, crossing the room to where Emma and Maggie are in the rocking chair. He doesn’t hesitate to cup Emma’s face lovingly, leaning in and simply kissing her soundly. “I love you, Swan.”

She sighs against his mouth, working on a smile; she’s happy, content. She’s _exactly_ where she’s supposed to be. “I love you too…”

— _f i n_   —

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and it's done! for real this time! <3 Revising turned into rewriting some chunks so that's why today, but yah, done! Thanks for reading all the words :)


End file.
